u 



F^ itr?. 



Alivays order "DE WITT'S" Acting Plays. 



I*£tICE"lS CENTS. 



rPS 2734 

.R7 U6 
(Copy 1 



: WITT'S ACTING PLAYS, 

(Number 307. 




THE ULSTER. 



j^ Farcical Oomedy, 

IN THREE ACTS. 

IN PART ADAPTED FROM THE GERMAN, AND IN PART 

ORIGINATED. 

By SYDNEY ROSENFELI), 

AutJior of ''Rosemi Shell;' ''The Pique Family;' ''Off the 

Stage;' "Mr. X;' "On Bread and Water;' "High (7." 

"I Shall Invite the Major;' "Mabel's Manceuwe;' 

"Married Bachelors;' "The Heir Apparent;' 

etc., etc. 



TOGETHER WITH 



A deacription of the Costumes— Synopsis of the Piece— Cast ot the Characters 
—Entrances and Exits— Relative Positions of the Performers ox? , 

the Stage, and the whole of the Stage Business. 




DE WITT, PTIBIISHER. 

^o. 33 Hose Street, 




NOW 



I 



A COMPLETE DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE OF DE WIH'S ACTINQ 
PLAYS, AND DE WITT'S ETHIOPIAN AND COMIC DRAMAS, containing 
RE A D Y i Plots, Costume, Scenery, Time of Representation, and every other inf orui'^- 
tion, mailed free and post-paid. 



DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. 



I^ease notice that nearly all the Comedies, Farces and Comediettas in the following 
^istofDK Witt's Acting Plays" are very mitablefor representation in small Amatmr Thea- 
tres and on Parlor Stages, as they need but little extrinsic aid frmn complicated scenery or 
eicpensive costumes. They have attained their deserved popularity by their droll situations^ 
excellent plots, great humor and brilliant dialogues, no less than by the fact that they are the 
most perfect in every respect of any edition of plays ever published either in the United States 
<yr Europe, whether as regards purity of the text, accuracy and fulness of stage directions and 
scenery, or elegance of typography and clearness of printing. 

*:jc* In ordering please copy the figures at the commer^ement of each piece, which indicate 
the nurnber of the piece in "De Witt's List op Acting Plays." 

1^" Anij of the, following Plays sent^ postage free^ on receipt of price — 15 

cents each. 



The figure following the name of the Play denotes the number "bf 
Acts. The figures in the columns indicate the number of characters — M. male ; 
F. female. 



No. 

75. 
114. 

m?. 

93. 

40. 

89. 
192. 
166. 

41. 
141. 

67. 

36. 
1»0. 

70. 
179, 

35. 

24. 
1. 

69. 
I 175. 

55. 

m) 

65. 

68. 

76. 
149. 
121. 
107. 
152. 

52. 
148. 

113. 
199. 



M. T. 

3 
3 
3 
2 
2 
3 
1 
2 



Adrienne, drama, 3 acts 7 

Anything for a Change, comedy, 1 3 
Apple Blossoms, comedy, 3 acts — 

Area Belle (The), farce, 1 act 

Atchi, comedietta, 1 act 

Aunt Charlotte's Maid, farce, 1 act. . 
Game of Cards (A), comedietta, 1 
Bardell vs. Pickwick, sketch, 1 act. 

Beautiful Forever, farce, 1 act 

Bells (The), drama, 3 acts 9 3 

Birthplace of Podgers, farce, 1 act. . 7 3 

Black Sheep, drama, 3 acts 7 5 

Blow for Blow, drama, 4 acts 11 6 

Bonnie Fish Wife, farce, 1 act 3 1 

Breach of Promise,, drama, 2 acts. . 5 2 

Broken-Hearted Club, comedietta, 14 8 

Cabman, No. 93, farce, 1 act .2 2 

Caste, comedy, 3 acts 5 3 

Caus;ht by the Cufi, farce, 1 act 4 1 

Casf upon the World, drama, 5 acts. 10 5 
Catharine Howard, historical play, 

3 acts .^ 12 5 

Charming pair, farce, 1 act. : 4 3 

Checkmate, comedy, 2 acts 6 5 

Chevalier de St. George, drama, 3 9 3 

Chops of the Channel, farce, 1 act. 3 2 

Clouds, comedy, 4 acts 8 7 

Comical Countess, farce, 1 act 3 1 

Cupboard Love, farce, 1 act 2 1 

Cupid's Eye-Glass, comedy, 1 act... 1 1 

Cup of Tea, comedietta, 1 act 3 1 

Cut off with a Shilling, comedietta, 

1 act 2 1 

Cyrill's Success, comedy, 5 acts — 10 4 
Captain of the Watch (The), come- 
dietta, 1 act 4 2 

Daddy Gray, drama, 3 acts 8 4 

Dandelion's Dodges, farce, 1 act 4 2 

David Garrick, comedy, 3 acts 8 3 

Dearest Mamma, comedietta, 1 act, 4 3 

Deare? than Life, drama, 3 acts 6 5 

Deborah (Leah) drama, 3 acts 7 6 

Deerfoot, farce, 1 act 5 I 

Doing for the Best, drama, 2 acts. . 5 3 

D^ars and Cents, comedy, S acta. . 9 4 



No. M. 

21. Dreams, drama, 5 acts 6 

186. DuchessdelaValliere, play, 5acts.. 6 
47. Easy Shaving, farce, 1 act , 5 

135. Everybody'sFriend, comedy, 3 acts. 6 

200. Estranged, an operetta, 1 act 2 

103. Faust and Marguerite, drama, 3 acts, 9 
9. Fearful Tragedy in the Seven Dials, 
interlude, 1 act 4 

128. Female Detective, drama, 3 acts.... 11 

101. Femande, drama, 3 acts 11 

99. Fifth Wheel, comedy, 3 acts 10 

145. First Love, comedy, 1 act 4 

102. Foiled, drama. 4 acts - . 9 

88. Founded on Facts, farce, 1 act. . . . 4 

74. Garrick Fever, farce, 1 act 7 

53. Gertrude's Money Box, farce, 1 act. 4 
73. Golden Fetter (Fettered), drama, 3 11 
30. Goose with the Golden Eggs, farce, 

1 act 5 

131. Go to Putney, farce, 1 act 4 

28. Happy Pair, comedietta, 1 act 1 

151. Hard Case (A), farce, 1 act 2 

8. Henry Dunbar, drama, 4 acts 10 

180. Henry the Fifth, historical play, 5 35 

19. He's a Lunatic, farce, 1 act 3 

60. Hidden Hand, drama, 4 acts 5 

187. His Own Enemy, farce, 1 act , . 4 

174. Home, comedy, 3 acts 4 

64. Household Fairy, sketch, 1 act 1 

190. Hunting the Slipper, farce, 1 act 4 

191. High C, comedietta, 1 act 4 

197. Hunchback (The), play, 5 acts 14 

18. If I Had a Thousand a Year, farce, 

1 act 4 

116. I'm Not Mesilf at All, original Irish • 
stew, 1 act 3 

129. In for a Holiday, farce, 1 act 2 

159. In the Wrong House, farce, I act. . . 4 

122. Isabella Orsini, drama, 4 acts .11 

177. I Shall Invite the Major, comedy, 1 4 

100. Jack Long, drama, 2 acts 9 

139. Joy is Dangerous, comedy, 2 acts. . . 3 

17. Kind to a Fault, comedy, 2 acts 6 

86. Lady of Lyons, play, 5 acts 12 

72. Lame JJicuse, farce, 1 act 4 



p. 
3 
4 
2 

5 

1 
7 

1 
4 
10 
2 
1 
3 
2 
4 
2 
4 



KS-SPECIAI NOTICE.- The l.av ot -The i;i.te,-is .h.lv proter.e.l .,v 
(ORvnght. and all persons are hereby „a,necl against producing it without 
permission of the publisher. "moui; 



THE ULSTER. 

A Farcical Comedy, 

IN THREE ACTS. 

IN PART ADAPTED FROM THE GERMAN, AND IN PART ORIGINATED. 

Bv SYDNEY ROSEN FELD, 

Author of -Boseml Shell r '' The Pique Family r ''Off the Staged 
*'3fr.X./' ''On Bread and Water;' ''High 0. /' '' I Shall 



Invite the Major,'' '' MaheVs Manmivre;' ''Married 
Bachelors;' '' The Heir Apparent;' etc., etc. 



li 



TOGETHEU WITH 



A DESCRIPTION OF THE COSTUMES-CAST OP THE CHARACTERS-EN- 
TRANCES AND EXITS— RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PERFORM- 
ERS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE OF THE STAGE 
BUSINESS. 



ALL ACTING RIGHTS RESBRVETT-''^'^. 









O'- -^^ 






NEW YORK : 

DE WITT, PUBLISHER, 

*^o. 33 Rose Street. 



Copyright, 188^, by A. T. B. De Witt. 



Tin: ui.sTKK. 



CHARACTERS. 



tr 
ea 
ea 
m 

07 



Mr. Valentine Flipper, a retired merchant with a second wife and a subtle 

secret. 
Wilmington, his son by a former marriage. 
Professor Barton, "Barton's System of Development." 
G eoffrey, his son. 

Burton, the stranger. P\ 

Peter Jones. ^ V 

Adam Quick, a private detective. r r^ * -^X 

SNORTER, the cabman. ^\) yi '^ 

John, a footman retained. \ ^O^ \ 

Mike, a servant discharged. » > ^ 

Black, lawyer's clerk. 

Mrs. Flipper, aged thirty, left an orphan at eighteen. 
Sadie, Flipper's niece. 
Mrs. Barton. 
Agnes, her daughter. 
Patsy, maid at Fhpper's. 
Susan, maid at Barton's. 
Moll. 



TIME OF REPRESENTATION— TWO HOURS. 



SCENERY. 

ACT I.— Scene— Room at Mr. Flipper's. 

^ I I I I I ^ 1 

F. Door. Fire-place. Arch. 

R. 3 E. ] Library door. Sofa. Flipper's room. [ L. 3 E. 



i^') Writing-desk. 

: R. 2 1:. 


Table. 


L. 2E. 


R. 1 E. ] Mrs. Flipper's door. 




Window, n 1^. 1 E. 


O 




O 


o 


« 


O 



oooooooooooooooooooooo 

Main entrance through arch L.; Servants' entrance, d. f. r.; Library door, 
R. 3 E.; Mrs. Flipper's door, k. 1 i:.; Flipper's door, l. 3 E. ; window, l. 1 K.; 
fire place at back ; writing-desk, R. 3 E, ; sofa slanting olT from fire-place at 
back; table, L. c; chairs ad. lib. All suggestive of ease and comfort. 

ACT II.— Scene— Combined reception and exhibition room at Professor Bar- 
ton's. Main entrance at back; D. L., leading into another room; piano, R.; 
various kinds of gymRastic apparatus— such as parlor rowing-machine, etc.— 
placed about the sides ; chairs arranged against the ipills ; the body of stage is 
devoid of furniture; " Crash " covers the carpet. 

ACT III. —Scene— Same as in Act I. 



/Z.- 3^3/^ 



TITK ILSTEIi 



costu:mes. 

Mr. Flipper— Neat walking suit. 

Professor Barton— in Act II, close-fitting suit suitable for gymnastic exercise; 

second dress, quiet walking dress, with dark sack overcoat. 
Mr. BUKTOX— Gentlemanly street attire but without any overcoat. 
Geoffrey — Handsome suit, but without overcoat. 
Wilmington— Same, but with ulster when paying visits. 
John— Livery. 

Peteh Jones and other servants - Dark clothes, not in liver}-. 
Snorter— Plain suit, heavy overcoat. 

Mrs. Flipper— Handsomely dressed; when visiting, wears dun-colored ulster. 
Sadie -Ditto, ditto, with Derby hat. 
Mrs. Barton — Sober, ladylike home and street dresses 
Agnes— When in the gj-mnasium, Avears a rather close-fitting gray suit with 

neat boots; afterwards, a pretty street attire. 
Patsy— Sprucely attired as a chambermaid. 
Susan— Decent maid-servant's dress. 
Moll— Common showy servant-girl's dress. 
Note -All characters shoidd wear clothes suitable to the depth of winter. 



PROPERTIES. 

ACTI.— Clock to strike 7; coal-scuttle for Mike; poker for ditto; bell-rope 
to ring; ulster for Snorter to bring in : table-cloth a:id breakfast things; 
paper and pen and ink ; bell on table: newspaper for Wilmington : letter for 
Patsy ; directory for Flipper. 

ACT II —Two pairs' of parlor skates; written paper and pen for Barton; 
printed prospectuses for ditto ; card-case with cards for Flipi'ER. 

ACT III.— Written papers for Black to hand to Flippfij. 



SYNOPSIS. 

Early in the morning, when all is still, Geoffrey Barton cautiously enters 
a room in Mr. Flippkr's house. Ho had been startled by the arrival ot Mr. F. 
while paying court to S A I^IE F. Retreating hurriedly from the room, he had 
It ft behind him his dun -colored ulst{*r, and after his fright was over, he had 
been cautiously ])rowling around the halls and stairs, vainly seeking for the 
room in which he had left his indispensable garment, for the night was bitter 
cold. Hearing a bell ring, he hurries off. Mike and Patsy meet and are 
joined by John. These three servants have a smart ".iavring match," which 
is interrupted by Snorter, who leaves an ulster foimd in his cab, supposing it 
belonged to F., his last passenger. They all retire as F. enters. He's in a pas- 
sion, and says ''he is a victim— that jealousy is consuming him" He 'valks 
aimlessly about the room till his glaring eyes fall on an ulster. This confirms 
his suspicions. Ashe does not vrear an ulster, whose could it be? Evidently 
he says, " the ulster vras shed like the ulster of old in the days of Po'iphar." 
Calling Patsy, a very funny scene occurs between her and F., Mho frightens 
the girl by hij odd questions about her " young man's " visits, hoping that the 
girl'r, lover might have left the mysterious garment. Quick, F.'s detective, 
comes to report. He had teen a man sneak into the house in the evening, hav- 



4 THE I'T.STEn. , 

ing on a dun-colored ulster. He had watched till the front door was locked and 
the *' sneaker " had not left the house. Snorter enters and Sadik comes on. 
She had found Geof.'s ulster and hid it. F. puts her through an examination. 
The3'oung girl, terrified, thinks his suspicions point at Geof., and gives an- 
swers strongly confirmative of F.'s suspicions. The latter goes off giving Sadik 
a bitterly sarcastic shot as he departs. IVIi-s. F. enters, and Sadie, bitterlj' 
sobbing, confides the secret of her love for Geof. to her aunt. The latter 
reproves her; but at length tells her that she will manage it, although Mr. F. 
expects Peter Snarl any moment, whom he has fixed upon as Sadie's hus- 
band. F. enters, and seeing them whispering, exclaims, ** Vipers! " The wife 
asks if anj-thing is wrong, when F. bursts out into a tirade about sneaks in the 
house, and ordering Sadie to leave, he violently upbraids his wife for her 
duplicitj\ She all the time thinks that he is alluding to Geof. He grows 
fiu'ious when his wife coolly tells him that he had better see GtOF. and have a 
talk with him. Left to his gloomy thoughts, his son Wilmington enters, 
wearing an ulster. This attracts F.'s regards, for he had hoped the ulster 
might have been his. 'SVil . had come to see what had become of G eof., whose 
friends were terrified at his absence. F. has left and WiL. sits down reading. 
Peter Jones, the new servant, is brought in and is waiting till F. is dressed. 
Sadie enters with Geof.'s ulster on her arm. She asks Peter his name, and 
the ins ant he says Peter, she screams " He is come already!'' and rushes off. 
F. hoars the scream, runs on, asks Peter his name, tells him to come into his 
i-oom, that he is glad to see him. Wil., seeing Geof.'s ulster, walks off with it. 
Geof. comes in determined to clear up matters by asking Mrs. F. for 
Sadie; but the latttr having told her aunt that Pkter had come, the latter 
comes on to give him his quietus. She accordingly gives him such a reception, 
listening to none of his explanations, that the poor fellow is fain to depart. 
When she sees Sadie, she tells her that she has "gotten rid of Peter Snarl 
and will attend to Geof." Mr. F. goes raging about the house questioning 
everybody he meets, and every answer seems to pile up the evidence of his 
wife's infidelity. So bewildered are his senses, that he fully believes Peter is 
M^ Peter, and pushes Sadie into'the astonished servant's arms, exclaiming 
" Now for the first kiss of welcome ! * ' 

In the second act, Agnes receives Wil.. who gives her Geof.'s ulster, and 
says that she must hide it till the slorin is over. Mr. Barton, who is almost 
'• loony " on physical education, makes Agnes put on skates, and much of the 
time the young lady appears alternately shpping, gliding and " racketting " on 
them. All this is very droll, as the young lady is often talking veiy gravely 
meanwhile. Mr. B. is very hard of hearing, but as he will not admit it the con- 
versation is amusingly blundering. As Wil. is very pressing in his suit, Mr. 
B. concludes that he is a "book agent.'' After a most perplexing series of 
events, in which nearly all the characters are playing at cross purposes, the 
act ends in a general crying and sobbing match, occasioned by their all mis- 
understanding the real state of affairs. 

Act three introduces Geof. wearing the ulster. He appears as a music 
teacher. Mr. Burton enters in search of his ulster, and thinks Geof. has it 
on. Sadie comes on in a new ulster of similar pattern. Mrs. F. enters, and 
as BrnTON is mistaken for Barton, no end of fun follows. As the piece pro- 
ceeds, F. becomes every moment more hopelessly involved in perplexities. 
-The two families arc all brought together, and the clue to the entanglements 
are giv n by the lawyer reading the marriage settlements of the young lovers. 
For a moment, poor F. is almost reduced to idio-y, but "pulling himself to- 
gether," begets out of the iabyriijth very neatly, and the piece has a capital 
finale . 



THE ULSTER. 



ACT I. 

SCENE. — RoomatMn. FhiPPEiC^. Main entrance through arcJi Jj. -, 
servants' entrance, door inY. r. ; library door, ii. 3 E. ; door leading 
to Mrs. Flipper's apartments, ii. 1 e. ; Flipper's room, l. 8 
E, ; windojD, L. 1 E. ; fire-place at hack; icriting-desk, R. 3 E. ; 
sofa slanting off from fire-place at hack ; table, i^. c. ; chairs, etc., ad 
lib. All suggestive of ease and comfort. 

Lights half dov^n— it is supposed to he early in the morning. During 
the progress of the act the stage lights up. As the curtain rises, clock 
strikes seven; on the last stroke, Geoffrey peers cautiously in at 
door in R. F., th^n comes down, 

Geoffrey. Seven o'clock, and no one stirring. Confoundedly 
awkward to have lingered here so late last night. But how could I 
cxj3ect old Flipper to return home at that early hour and interrupt 
us in the very dawn of our delicious love-dream ? Our l(>ve-dream ! 
Sadie's and mine ! In the hurry of my flight from the room, I left a 
p(»rtion of my wardrobe behind, my ulster ! I say, 7???/ ulster, be- 
cause nobody cl-e would own such an ulster. It was a dun-colored 
ulster ! {hnks ahout) I'm ;.ure this was the room. Br-r— it's chilly ! 
I've fumbled about the hallway all night and found all the doors 
locked. I've spent the night on the stairs; thermometer fourteen 
degrees below zero, and no ulster ! Any man who would spend the 
night on a stranire stair-case fourteen degrees below zero and no 
ulster, mud bo in Love. Well, I confess it I I am. But not in vain, 
for she loves me in return. When I say she, I mean Sadie. To 
think that any oth^r should aspire to the hand of my Sadie ! and to 
think that that other should call himself Peter Snarl ! The thought 
is maddening, and more or less ridiculous, {bell sounds, L. 3 E.) Oh, 
signs of life at last; they're waking up. I must beat a hasty retreat. 
How and where ? I don't want to be taken for a burglar. Love is 
love, Sadie; but we must draw the line somewhere ! Hang it all, if 
I only had my ulster, {buttons his coat tightly and hurries off^ through 
arch, L., bell sounds l. 3 e., tery violently.) 

Enter Mike, r. d. in f. , lazily carrying a coal-scuttle. 

Mtke. Aisy now, What'sthe hurry ? There's somcthin' workin' 
on the ould man's mind, to set him agoin' so early in the mornin'. 
{goes t^y fire-place and pokes the grate) Don't lose yer patience, ould 



THE VLSTZIl. 

man that ED2:Hsh footman of your'n ain't ^ot both his oiyzcs open 
vit ' Those English domistics arc lazy cu-ses, ? nf.y way. {bell, L. 3 
k'.a'^heforc) O!., that's yer little game, is it ? Well Oi moiglit rs 
well take a hand in it meself . (;;?/^ s hell-rope athacK hell rings ouUi^ie; 
hell aho rings,\\. 1 E ) Hello, it's broke loose over there too, Ins U ? 
It's their airly mornin' saloot ! {conlinues atflre-jylace.) 

Enter Patsy, k. d. in f., fjing lur diyron. 

Patsy. Did the missis ling ? 

Mike. She took that liberty. 

Patsy. You're too smart. [Exit, n. 1 e. 

Mike. This is the laziest house I ever struck. The only dacent 
Avide-awake occupant in ii, is me^fclf, and it's me tliat's been dis- 
charged. 

Enter John, drcnnng an his liccry. 

Mike. Wake up, wake Tip I This bell-ringer's chorus is settin' me 
crazy, (m^f John, l 13 e.) lie didn't even Lave the dacency to bid 
me good-iiiornin'. That's because Oi've got me walkin'-papers. I'm 
no-h dy now 1 

Enter John, l. 

John. You'd better 'uiry, Mr. Flipper is hup and you know he 
told you yesterday, 'e didn't want to set hize on you again. 

Mike. Maybe you'd luike to build the foire yerself. Here you 
air. {holding out the tongs.) 

John. 'Urry, 'urry, and then leave. The new^ groom vill arrive 
this mornink \ [Exit, d. in v. 

MiKi:. He w-ill, will he ? thin lit tho new groom fix the foire ! 
{fhroicivg down the tongs. He is about to go off through arch, tchoo 
Snorter appears wiping his feet on the mat; he ha.s an ulster on his 
arm.) 

Snorter. Say ! 

Mike. Hallo ! wdiat do pou w^ant ? 

Snort. Come outside. 

Mike. What fur ? 

Snort. 'Cause 1 can't come in with all the mud on my boots. I'm 
very funny that way. 

Mike. Oh, come in, it's all right. 

Snort. Is it? then here goes, {comes dote n.) 

MfKE. We'l, what is it ? 

Snort, {mysteriously). Well, 3'ou krow I drove the old gentleman 
home from the AVhite Elephant last night. 

MiKK. That wasn't such a thundeiin' lot to do, w^as it ? 

Snort. Not such a thundeiin' lot, no; but the old gentleman Avas 
a little— you know — just a little — how shall I call it ? you knov>' I'm 
very I'uuny that way. 

Mike. Very. He was a little what ? 

Snort, {niysterioitsly). He was a little — exhilarated. 

Mike. There's no tiiunderin' harm in that, is there ? 

Snort. No; but he was a little more than that; hcM-as — how shall 

1 c .11 it ? I'm very funny tha^, way; he was 

MiKK. Bilin'; is that it ? 

Snort. Yes, that's sotnething like it. 

.Mike. Well, and did he forget to pay for ihe cab ? 



THE ULSTER. 7 

SxoiiT. ISTo; lie paid me before he got in. 

Mike. Then what do 3'ou want ? 

Snort. It's just this. AYhile I was dusting out my cab tliis morn- 
ing, 1 found this, {holds if]) uUter) Mr. Flipper was my last passenger; 
I suppose it belongs to Idni. 

Mike. Very loikely. You can wait here and give it to him. 

Snort. No, no I 1 left my cab at the door. 

Mike. Why didn't you bring it up w4th ye ? 

Snort. Y* ry clever. I can leave this here, can't I ? 

]\IiKE. I s'pose you can . 

Snort. There, {laying ulster on. sofa) Now I'm off. {scrapes his 
feet on mat.) 

Mike, Are ye nfraid to dirty the sidewalk ? 

Snort. I'm very funny that way. [^Exit. Mike follows hi?n. 

Enter Patsy, with table-cloth and spreads it over table; voice of Flipper 

h^ard off. 

Patsy. He's not in very good humor to-day. [Exit,^ 

Enter Flipper, l. 8 1:. He comes down quickly and paces the stage. 

Flipper. It's terrible ! I haven't slept a wink all night. My con- 
dition is simply — {looking in the glass) you w^ouldn't suppose it, to look 
at me , but it is ; I am a victim ! The flames of jealousy are gradu- 
ally consuming me. I am a walkmg volcano, {throws himself into a 
seat) I can't s'and it any longer. There can be no doubt in the mat- 
ter. ]\[y private detective has got at the bottom of it all. There 
was somebody here during my absence last evening. I am being 
deceived. I, the most devoted and self -sacrificing of husbands; I, 
who scarcely ever leave my wife's side an instant all day. Com- 
pelled to go off yesterday on a matter of business, I have scarcely 
turned my back before my worst fears are realized. My suspicions 
become convictions. Mrs. Flipper launches out ! Oh, woman ! 
woman ! {jumping up) My late lamented friend, Bulger, meant well 
when he gave me his daui^liter in marriage; he meant well, but he 
didn't know. *' Flipper," he said to me twelve years ago. " Flipper, 
take this eighteen-year-old orphan to your bosorn," and he placed her 
there. And I took the eighteen-year-old orphan to my bosom, and I 
married her. My late lamented friend, Bulger, must have intended 
I shonhl, or he wouldn't have to;d me to take her to my bosom. I 
yieldi d to Bulger; but w^hat has Bulger done for me ? What is my 
reward for making Betsy Bulger mine ? I have done everything to 
keep her free f i om the contaminating influence of the world. Even 
my son, Wilmington — the fruit of my first union— aged twenty-two — 
has been removed beyond the pale of his young mother's loveliness. 
I have put him to board with strangers'; all so that Mrs. Flipper 
number two might be reared in that sweet seclusion that befits a 
— a— in short, a Mrs. Flipper number two. And yet my private de- 
tective startles me with these terrifying reports, {has gone up to fire- 
place, sees ulster , seizes it, brings it doicn). A — what's this ? As I live 
it's an ulster, /don't wear an ulster. How does it get here ? Has 
it been shed like the ulster of old, in the days of Potiphar ? John ! 
John ! (rings bell) Why in thunder don't some one come ? Whose 
ulster can this be, and who dares leave his ulster behind in /ny housed 



THE VLSTEK. 



Kilter Patsy 



Patsy. Did 3'ou ring, sir ? 

Flip. Tell John to come here at once, {chanr/ing his mind) Ko, 
wait, (aside) This youn^u: woman may know a thing or two herself. 
{fills, aloud) Come here/Patsy. (aside) I must be shrewd and discreet. 
(rery softly) Come liere, Patsy; nearer, Patsy, (very tenderly) Put 
your little hand in mine, Patsy. 

Patsy (receding a step). Lor, Mr. Flipper. 

Flip, (very xiolently). Come nearer, Patsy ! 

FxT^Y (in affright). Oh, sir. 

Flip. What's the matter witli you ? 

Patsy. You scream so, sir. 

Flip. Don't be afraid. Tell me, was there anybody here during 
my absence yesterday ? 

Patsy. Not that Tknow of, sir. 

Flip. Think, Patsy. 

Patsy. I didn't see nor hear nobody, sir. 

Flip. And my wife. Patsy ? 

Patsy. Mrs. Flipper had a headache, sir, and went to bed by nine 
o'clock, sir. 

Flip. And what did yoic do, Patsy ? 

Patsy. There wasn't nothing for me to do, sir, so I went to bed 
too. 

Flip, (a^'cf^). There's nothing startling in that, (aloud) All right; 
you may go. 

Patsy. Shall I send John ? 

Flip. Yes — no ! (calling her back) Patsy ! 

Patsy (returning). Yes, sir. 

Flip. Tell me. Patsy; but candidly now. Have you got a young 
man. Patsy ? 

Patsy. Lor, Mr. Flipper. 

Flip. Don't be afraid, speak out, Patsy. 

Patsy. And wouldn't you have no objections, sir ? 

Flip. None in the world. Patsy. 

Patsy. Well, then, yes, sir. 

Flip, (quickly). You have a young man ? (Patsy nods) You have 
indeed ? 

Patsy. Yes, sir; but only that 07ie. 

Flip. That's quite right. Patsy. And your young man was here 
last evening, was lie. Patsy ? 

Patsy. Oh no, Mr. Flipper ! 

Flip. Now, now, speak the truth; you know I don't object, 
Patsy. 

Patsy. No, honest and true; he wasn't, sir. My young man aint 
in town, sir, now. 

Flip, (disappointedly). That'll do ; 3'ou may go. 

Patsy. Yes, sir; I only wanted to say, sir, now we happen to be 
on the subject 

Flip. Go ! 

Patsy. And seeing you in such good humor, sir. 

Flip, (violently). Clear out ! 

Patsy (frightened). Yes, sir. (aside) Mercy on us, I can't make 
him out at all to-day. {Exit. 

Flip, (alone). Her young man is out of town. That narrows the 



THE ULSTEH, 9 

thing clown — it is as I suspect, clear — clear beyond argument; I am 
a victim — a full-fledged victim. This ulster's weighing on my soul 
like CL double-breasted nightmare ! 

Enter John, 

John. ]\[r. Flipper, somebody vanls to see you on business; says 
you hexpecks 'im. 

Flip, {anxiously). Quick ! 

John {as though anstcering a question). Yes, sir. 

Flip. Quick ! 

John. That's 'is name. 

Flip. Tell him to come in at once. 

John. Yes, sir. [Exit. 

Flip. Quick, my detective ! What new terrors can he have un- 
earthed ? I feel a cold perspiration starting out all over me. If the 
worst comes to the worst, I'll end it all to-day. Mrs. Flipper can 
chose between me and the ulster. 

Eiiter briskly, Quick. 

Quick. On time ! precision's my strong point. 

Flip. Were you on guard again last night ? 

Quick. I was. 

Flip. What did you see ? 

Quick. At half -past eight, I saw a man sneak into the house. 

Flip, {excitedly). You saw him sneak. You're sure you saw him 
sneak? ' He didn't simply walk in ? You know there's a big differ- 
ence between a weak and a siialk — between a sneak and— and a 
walk ? 

Quick. Precisely ! 

Flip. Go on. 

Quick. At ten o'clock, tbe front door was locked. 

Flip. And tbe sneaker hadn't sneaked out ? 

Quick. No, sir. 

Flip. And what then ? 

Quick. Then I left. 

Flip. It was your business to have waited. 

Quick. You told me to watch every night until the front door was 
closed. Precision's my strong point. 

Flip. But I came home at ten. I found nobody. 

Quick. Guess you must have let him out yourself. 

Flip. What sort of a looking chap was he; tall, short 

Quick. Pretty medium. 

Flip. What did be have on ? 

Quick. On what ? • 

Flip. Did he wear a cloak, or an overcoat, or 

Quick. He wore an ulster ! 

Flip, (wildly). He wore an ulster ! are you sure ? 

Quick. Dead sure. Brownishy-yellowishy. Precision's my strong 
point. 

Flip. Could you tell him again if you saw him ? 

Quick. Dead sure. 

Flip. And the ulster too ? 

Quick. Certain. 

Flip. Was it this ? {holding -iqi ylsier,) 



10 THE ULSTEK. 

Quick. Pielt}' sure it wa«. 

Flip. You're not positive ? 

Quick. Find me the man to fit it and Til tell you in a minute. 
Precision's my strong point, {hell rings i)i Mks. Flipper's room, r.) 

Flip. Tiiat's my wife. Mrs. Flipper mustn't see .you here. Go, 
quick. (Quick, who has started on the icord ''go,'' stops short at ''quick.'') 

Flip. More evidence I {sees Quick) What are you waiting for ? 
Why don't you go, quick. (Quick same bis. as before. Patsy comes 
on with breakfast things, then exits.) 

Flip. This final evidence settles it all. {sees Quick) What are you 
waiting for ? 

Quick. I thought j^ou said 

Flip. I said, go, leave, quick I 

Quick {turning). What is it ? 

Flip. Do you take me for a fool ? 

Quick {aside). One of us is, dead sure. [Exit. 

Flip. She's up ! I hear her coming. Now is your time; pull 
yourself together, Flipper. Keep cool until you've got all 3'our 
proofs and then spring them on her. [Exit, l. E. 

Enter Sadie, r. She looks cautiously about, 

Sadie. Nobody about ! I'm safe ! {goes to meriting -desk) I must 
write to Geoffrey. He must be more cautious. He came very 
nearly spoiling everything last night. In tiie hurry of his flight he 
left his ulster behind. Luckily /found it; if it had fallen into any 
body else's hands, I don't know what the consequences might have 
been, {writes.) 

Enter Flipper, l. He crosses to th^ desk just m she begins to write. 

Flip. Sadie 1 

^sjyiK {startled). Oh! 

Flip. Why do you start ? You've a guilty conscience ? No one 
ever starts with a clear conscience. What are 3'ou trying to keep 
secret? 

Sadie. AVhat do you mean ? 

Flip. Tell me the truth 1 Confess'! I command it. 

Sadie. I have nothing to confess. 

Flip. There was somebody here while I was away last evening ? 

Sadie {starting as before). Oh ! 

Flip. There, you see, I know all; so don't attempt to prevaricate. 

Sadie {nervouslij). No, uncle, really I don't know. 

Flip, {in hopeless anger and despair). And is there not one honest 
soul left in the worjd ? Hf^s that ulster made hypocrites of them all ? 

Sadie {aside). That ulster ! what does he mean ? {aloud) Uncle, I 
don't want to deceive you. I should have spoken to you about it 
before, but I was afraid it might displease you, so 

Flip, {grimly). How considerate 1 For fear of displeasing me, you 
allow me to be deceived. I'm to be made a victim for my own 
good ! 

Sadie. Promise not to get angry and I will tell you everything. 

Fjip. Angry? what the devil is there to be angry about? Cer- 
tainly not. Go on. 

Sadie. Well, th'-n, I— I ^ 

Flip. I -I -I ! Wliat did you ? P^ppak out 



THE ULSTER. 11 

• 

Sadie. But, uncle, you're so violent. 

Flip, {very excitedly). Violent ! who's violent ? 

Sadie. You promised to be calm ? 

Flip. Calm ! I'm human ! I'm alive ! I'm not made of straw ! 
Calm? Do you expect me to swallow cinders and smile? {paces 
dage.) 

Sadie. Oh, uncle dear, what are you goin^ to do ? 

YiAP. {fiendishly). What! Can you ask me Wi«^ .? 

Sadie. 1 wish I hadn't said a word. 

Flip. You nught to have told me long ago ! But no; you were 
afraid it would displease me. You thought it would be more pleasant 
for me to have you stand by and sc e my life's happiness destroyed 
forever ! You sweet, dear, kind, lovable creature 1 

[Exit quickly, l. 

Sadie. I never saw uncle in such a rage before. 

Enter ]\Irs. Flipper, r. 

Mrs. Flipper. Isn't my husband here ? I thought I heard his 
voice ? 

Sadiio {sobbing). Oh, auntie! 

Mrs. F. Tear.; ? So early in the morning ? Is this a sudden burst 
of secret joy ? The tribute of the young bride to her expected bride- 
groom ? Mr. Peter Snarl little dreams of the tender heart that awaits 
him here in sweet expectancy. 

Sadie. Don't, aantie, don't ! 

Mrs. F. If Peter Snarl had only sent us a picture of himself, we 
might have some idea wdiat this young Lochinvar is going to look 
like when be comes for his bride; but as it is I don't much wonder 
that the prospect of a total stranger coming to carry you off has un- 
strung your nerves. 

Sadie. It isn't the stranger whom uncle has selected for me that 
makes me weep. 

Mrs. F. Isn't it ? 

Sadie. Well, yes; he too; both! {sobs.) 

Mrs. F. Both? What nonsense you'ie talking. What do you 
mean ? 

Sadie. Oh, I don't know ! 

Mrs. F. Come, Sadie, conlide in me ! 

Sadie. I don't want to marry Peter Snarl. 

Mrs. F. You don't want to marry Peter Snarl ? 

Sadie. No, I'd sooner die— hi, hi ! {sobs.) 

Mrs. F. But you know your uncle has set his heart on the match. 
Old Mr. Snarl was a schoolmate of your father's. And Peter is his 
only son. Mr. Snarl is very wealthy. When he dies his son will in- 
herit a very handsome fortune. 

Sadie {through her tears). But uncle says himself he hasn't seen 
Mr. Snarl in fifteen j^ears, and at that time Peter was only seven 
years old. Who knows what he may have turned out to be in all these 
years. 

Mrs F. I can't understand this sudden change of mind, Sadie. 
There's something at the bottom of all this. When a girl declines 
the husbau'l thaf has been chosen for her, there can be only one 
reason. Oh, Sadie, you're blushing; and how confused you look. 

Sadie {with downc<ist eyes). Yes, auntie, I 



12 THE ULSTER. 

« 

Mrs. F. You arc in love ? (Sadie nods) And you never told me of 
it? 

Sadie. Ob, auntie dear, it came all of a sudden I 

Mrs. F. But where did this new hero come from ? 

Sadie. About a week ago Wilming.on took me to the Art Ex- 
hibition. 

Mrs. F. And was it there you met him ? 

Sadie. Yes, auntie; he's a friend of Wilmington's, and AYilming- 
ton is in love with his sister. 

Mrs. F. AYhat's this ? Wilmington in love too. This is really get- 
ting complicated. 

Sadie. But I haven't told you the trouble yet. Y"ou know Geof- 
frey was here last evening. 

Mrs. F. Geoffrey! is that his name ? 

Sadie, That's part of it. 

Mrs. F. And he was here without our knowledge, {reprovingly) 
Sadie, Sadie I 

Sadie. Uncle must have heard of it; he was most frightfully angry 
this morning, 

Mrs. F. I don't wonder at it. 

Sadie. I attempted to confess all to him. 

Mrs. F. Well ? 

Sadie. lie flew into a dreadful passion and scolded friffhffuUi/. 

Mrs. F. Y"ou deserved it, 

Sadie, isow if you desert me too, I shall be lost, (in tears.) 

Mrs. F. Calm yourself, Sadie, and I'll see what 1 here is to be done. 
It's a very awkward situation at best. Peter Snarl is likely to arrive 
here at any hour; and then — but hush ! here's your uncle, {they have 
gone to the table; bus. of ichispered conversation.) 

Enter Flipper, l. 

Flip. They're at it again. Eying and spying, and blinking and 
winking. Vipers ! 

Mrs. F. {aside to Sadie). Don't let him suspect, {aloud) Good- 
morning, Flipper dear ! 

Flip, [aside). She Flipper-dears me. {aloud) Oood-'mormng ! When 
do we have breakfast ? 

Mrs. F. What's keeping Patsy ? {sounds hell on table.) 

Flip. Patsy's been up and about hours ago. {with meaning) She 
went to bed so early last night, you know ? 

Mrs. F. Y^es, there was nothing for her to do, so I let her retire. 

Flip, {aside). She mi^ht have been in the way. 

Enter Patsy, tcith brealfast. 

Mrs. F. Y"ou seem to be in a bad humor ? 

Flip. Do I ? I should hope I did. 

Mrs. F. Has anything gone wrong ? 

Flip. Everything has. And you needn't suppose this matter can 
be kept secret any longer. (Sadie starts, Mrs. F. signals to her to con- 
trol herself) Clandestine meetings ! suspicious characters sneaking 
into the house ! All this has come to light, and you ask, has any- 
thing gone wrong? (Sadie starts, Mr?.. F. signals as before; Flipper 
seeing the signal) What are you winking at ? 

Mrs. F. Oh. nothing; it Was only a -spasm. 



THE ULSTER. 13 

Flip. What gives jou the spasms ? 

Mrs. F. Merely a sudden pain. I had to shut one eye. 

Flip. Is that the eye you're in tlie habit of shutting ? 

Mrs. F. What do you mean? {laughingly) Oh. I see. {looking at 
Sadie) We all have to shut our eyes to certain little things in this 
vv^orld ; don't you think so yourseli' ? 

Flip. Quite so. We go it blind too — some of us ! 

Mrs. F. We must overlook some things. 

Flip. You think so ? {to Sadie) And so do you, too, eh ? 

Sadie {starting). Oh, I wasn't listening. 

Mrs. F. {aside). The sly puss. 

Flip, {aside). Vipers ! 

Mrs. F. Why don't you drink your coffee, dear ? it will be cold. 

Flip. I prefer it cold. 

Mrs. F. I can't understand what puts you in such bad humor this 
morning. You're acting quite strangely. 

Flip. Am I, indeed ? 

Sadie. Yes, quite unlike j'ourself, uncle ? 

Flip. Am I, indeed ? 

Mrs. F. As though your feelings had been wounded. 

Flip. Wounded ? Lacerated ! torn to pieces ! split open ! ripped 
to shreds ! 

Mrs. F. {tenderly). Have they, dear ? , Then calm yourself and I'll 
mend them for you . 

Flip. How kind of you ! {hissing between his teeth) Serpents ! (Mrs. 
F. and Sadie both jump up) Has it stung you ? 

Mrs. F. {quietly). Go to your room, Sadie. [Sadie exits sloidy, r. 

Flip, Why did 3^ou send the child away ? 

Mrs. F. I didn't wish her to be a witness to any farther exhibi- 
tions of your temper. 

Flip. Do you object to my temper, woman ?' 

Mrs. F. 'J'his is the tirst time since our marriage that you have 
spoken to me in such a tone. 

Flip. Oh. there's worse to come. 

Mrs. F. What do you mean ? 

Flip. Sit down ! (Mrs. F., in surprise, sits) We'll arrange this 
matter as briefly and as quietly as we can. 

Mrs. F. Which matter ? 

Flip. Don't pretend, madam. I discovered the secret yesterday. 

Mrs. F. And is that what has excited you ? 

Flip. Isn't that enough ? 

Mrs. F. But, my dear Flipper, that's the way of the world . 

Flip. Then Heaven help the world ! 

Mrs. F. Such things must be passed over gently. They are not 
to be treated so severely. 

Flip, {amazed). Is that your honest opinion, madam ? 

Mrs. F. Surely ! It's an every-day occurrence. 

Flip. That's zery comforting. 

Mrs. F. I can understand the possibility of your being a little 
piqued about it; but 

Flip. But what ? 

Mrs. F. You must remember you were young once yourself ! 

Flip, {aside). Now I'm 1o have my years thrown into my teeth. 
(a?<?i^(^) And you have the temerity to stand up in defence of such 
atrocity? 

Mrs. F. What a ferocious expression, Flipper. {Imrghing) It's too 



14 THE ULSTER. 

absurd, {roniiniies laughing, much to Flipper's discomfitun) But tell 
me f]i>t, how did you discover it ? 

Flip. This scouudiell}^ lover is a flighty chap. He left an ulstei 
behind. 

Mrs. F. And did you find it ? 

Flip. Yes, madam, I ! 

Mrs. F. {laughing). Well now, that's too bad. 

Flip, {in rage). How dare you laugh ? 

[Mrs. F. I'm sorry for the poor fellow ; on his first trip too. 

Flip. What's his name ? 

Mks. F. I onl}^ know his Christian name. 

Flip. What's the heathen's Ghrutian name then ? 

Mrs. V. Geoffrey. 

Flip. Geoffrey ! {aside) It's Jeff for short, I'll stake my life. 

Mhs. F. If you were to follow my advice, dear, you'd make his 
acquaintance and have a talk with him. 

Flip. I shall make his acquaintance, you may depend upon it. 
Wliere does he live ? 

Mrs. F. I don't know. 

Flip. What's his occupation ? 

Mrs. F. I don't know that either. 

Flip. You don't seem to know much about him, do you ? 

Mrs. F. Do content yourself, dear, and all this can be found out. 
Do be a little more rational in the matter. It may seem a little 
strapge to you at tirst. but you'll soon get used to it, dear. 

[Exit R. 

Flip, {alone, at icliite heat). Are there no stones in heaven ? {pauses 
and tries to calm himself) Is that my wife ? Is that the late lamented 
orphan, whom my eighteen-year-old friend — I should say my late 
friend, whose lamented orphan — my late lamented eighteen — whose 
friend— Oh, my poor head ! my poor head ! I feel as if something 
terrible were going to happen. I'll go and dress, {as lie goes l.) 

Enter Wilmington. 

Flip. Wilmington, is that you ? 

Wilmington {icho, in his father's presence, is tery ncrmus and mono- 
syllabic. He is dressed in an ulster like' the others). No — I mean, yes. 

Flip. What brings you here at this hour of the morning; and 
where did you get that ulster from ? 

WiL. Yes, sir — I mean, no, sir. 

Flip. What do you mean, sir ? Speak out ! 

WiL. Yes, sir. 

Flip I know that your diction is not fluent to any extravagant 
degree, and that you are not much given to rhetorical bursts of fancy; 
but that is no reason why you shouldn't rouse yourself from a con- 
dition that is more or less idiotic, when I speak to you. 

WiL. Yes, sir. 

Flip. That ulster ! {aside) It's the same pattern, {alovd) Tell me, 
how many ulsters like this have you got ? 

WiL. Only one. 

Flip. Only one other ? 

WiL. No, sir. 

Flip. How many other ? 

WiL. None. 

Flip. Then whv didii'i vou sav po ? 



THE ULSTEIJ. 



15 



WiL. No, sir. 

Flip. He's hopeless. I thought it might possibly have been his 
coat; but that was too much to hope for. \^Exit, l. 

AV^iL. {waits until his father is out of sight and tJien completely losing 
his former nervousness, comes doicn nimbly and speaks with extraordi- 
nary glibness arid roluhility). I don't know how it is, but some how or 
other, I can never find words when I face the gov'nor. I know pre- 
cisely what I want to say every time, but there's a certain something 
— I don't know what— about liim that shuts me right up like a jack- 
knife. Well, Geoffrey didn't come home last night and his folks 
are in great alarm about him. Agnes sent me a message early this 
morning. I wonder when Sadie saw him last, {looks at his icatch) I 
guess this is rather too early for her to be up. I'll have to wait a bit. 
{takes morning paper out of his pocket, goes to sofa and reads.) 

Enter from servants' door, John, folloiced hy Peter Jones. 

John, {to Peter). And so you're the new groom ? 

Peter. I reckon I am. 

John. I'll let Mr. Flipper know you're 'ere. What's your name ? 

Peter. My name is Peter Jones. 

John. Peter is it ? then you'll 'ave to change it. Ye always calls 
the groom Mike in this 'ouse. {knocks at Flipper's door.) 

Flip, {from within). What is it ? 

John. Hit's me. 

Flip. Haven't time — I'm dressing. 

John {to Peter). You can vait *ere. 'E'll be hout directly. 

{Exit, L. 

Peter {looking about). This is the fust job of the kind I ever 
caught on to; I don't know how I'll pan out. {sees Wil, absorbed in 
paper) Excuse me, sir. 

Wil. Hallo ! 

Peter. I'm the new groom. This is my fust place. You know 
how it is when a feller strikes a new place. Would you mind tell'n 
a feller what kinder folks live in the house ? 

Wil. You needn't worry; they're all right. The gov'nor always 
treats his servants like members of the family, {aside as he continues 
reading) There's no harm in giving him a good reputation. 

Peter. I'm right glad o' that. This is m}^ fust place, yer know, 
and a feller allers feels kinder skeered at the first go off. My sister 
Moll works a few doors below, and she says the Flippers are fine 
folks, and so I didn't kick about ])eginnin' low down and workin' up. 
{turns icith Ms back to the audience and looks at paintings, etc.) 

Enter Sadie, r. , with Geoffrey's idstcr on her arm. 



Sadie. I'll have to send this back to Geoffiey at once, {lays ulster 
on chair) Where is Pats}^ ? {going c, sees Peter) A stranger V 

Peter. Excuse me, miss ! 

Sadie. What do you wish ? 

Peter. I'm w^aiting to see Mr. Flipper. 

Sadie. What is your name ? 

Peter. My name is Peter 

Sadie {screams). He's come already ! {rushes off blindly r.) 

Wil. {>itartlcd by fJie scream). That 'was Sadie; what did she mean 
by that ? 



16 THE ULSTER. 

Flip, {in shirt'Sleeves, protrudes from half-open door). Who was that 
screaming ? {sees Peter) Hallo, who are you ? 

Peter. My name is Peter 

Flip {mzhig him in quick delight). Why, Peter, my boy, how^ are 
3'ou ? You've come at last ! We've been waiting for you. Come 
right in. You don't mind my dressing, do you ? {pulls him in) Glad 
to see you, my boy. {closes door, wice continuing a few seconds within. 
This scene must be acted wry rapidly) 

WiL. {jumping up). Well, these are certainly the most remarkable 
going.s on I ever saw. The gov'nor seems a little off; and as for 
Sadie, I can't make her out at all. {coming doicn to chair upon which 
Sadie has laid the ulster) Hallo ! whose ulster is this ? By Jove, it's 
Geoff ley's ! Where does it come from ? I guess I'd better take 
charge of it any way. {Exit icith it into library. 

Enter Geoffrey, l. , ushered in by John. 

John. Hif you'll vait 'ere, Mr. Flipper vill see 3^ou in a little vile; 
'e's dressink. [Exit, l. 

Geof. After the adventures of last night, I have formed a resolve. 
I shall walk boldly up to Mr. Flipper and state my case. And if he's 
only half a man, he will understand that fourteen degrees below 
zero and no ulster, means but one thing — true love and undying de- 
votion. But I shouldn't object to getting my ulster back for all that. 

Enter Mrs. Flipper, r. 

Mrs. F. Sadie said Peter — sure enough, there he is. (Geoffrey 
bowingly apppoaches her) What do you wish, sir ? 

Geof. {taken aback at her tone). I've been waiting to see Mr. Flip- 
per. 

Mrs. F. My husband. 

Geof. Have I the pleasure of addressing Mrs. Flipper ? Then I 
may confess to you— that it is a family matter I w^as to discuss with 
Mr. Flipper. 

Mrs. F. Indeed ? 

Geof. It is, in fact, my ardent desire to be some day more closely 
united to this family. 

Mrs. F. So I've been told. 

Geof. You know then, madam ? 

Mrs. F. Everything. 

Geof. And may I count upon your favor ? 

Mrs. F. No, sir, you may not ! 

Geof. Not ? Oh, madam, the happiness of my life depends upon 

Mrs. F. {firmly). The happiness of my niece is no less at stake, 
and I might as well confess to you at the start, that Sadie would 
only be made miserable, were your suit to be favored. I must ask 
you then, for my niece's happiness, to abandon it. 

Geof. But surely, I flattered myself that 

Mrs. F. We have other plans for our niece. 

Geof. Yes, I know that; but 

Mrs. F. If you know that, there can be no further need of explan- 
ation. I should honestly advise you then to withdraw, for I feel 
justified in telling you at the start that your case is hopeless. 

Geof. {aside). This is pleasant. 



THE ULSTER. 17 

Mrs. F. All endeavors to ruu counter to our wishes in (his matter 
would be w^orse than futile, {bringing hlia gradually to the door) You 
will pardon my candor, but under the circumstances, to make your 
visits here too* frequent, would be really 

Geop. They really would 

Mrs. F. To tell you truth, for Sadie's sake, it would be best for 
you to avoid the house entirely. 

Geof. I 

Mrs. F. Inasmuch as persisting would simply lead to nothing. 

Geof. I 

Mrs. F. I bid you good -morning, (she bows Mm off) There, now. I 
think I've disposed of Peter Snarl rather effectually. Sadie will 
have that much to be grateful for. {going r.) I'll tell her at once. 

Enter Sadie. 

Sadie. Has he gone ? 

Mrs. F. Gone for good, I should say. 

Sadie. Thanks, a thousand thanks, auntie dear, {embraces Iter) 
And now you'Jl let me write to Geoffrey, w^ont you ? 

Mrs. F. No, Sadie, /shall write to him and ask him to present 
himself. 

Sadie. And will you let him call ? Oh, you dear goodi— {embraces 
her again.) 

Mrs. F. There, compose yourself. 

Sadie. I'm so happy I could hug the whole world. 

Mrs. F. Geoffrey might object. 

Sadie. Why, if Geoffrey calls himself, I needn't send — {sees the 
xilster has disappeared from the chair) Oh ! aunt. 

Mns. F. What's the matter ? 

Sadie {looking at empty chair). It's gone !— his coat — his ulster ! 
Why, I 

Mrs. F. Oh, your uncle told me he'd found it. 

Sadie. He did ! 

Mrs. F.. Now don't worry ; it'll all come out right. We've gotten 
rid of Peter Snarl. There's that much to begin w^ith. Leave Geof- 
frey to me. Come. {^Exeunt, i\. 

Enter FJjIPFKB, l., speaking off. He is in a icalking suit, tery icell 
dressed; he carries the ulster oxer his arm. 

Flip. Just a moment, Peter ! At last I've got a clue. Where s the 
Directory ? {goes to desk and gets it) In the inside pocket of that ulster 
I found this scrap of paper, {bell rings l.) It's a piece of an envelope, 
and I can make out part of a name ending in R. T. O. N. There 
can't be such a Jot of names ending that way. Let me see, 

Enter Patsy. She goes off l. 

What can it be ? Morton, Norton, Porton, Quorton, Rorton, Sorton, 
Torton. The deuce lake the lot. 

Enter Patsy, l., with letter ^ passes Flipper. 

Flip, {vacantly). Who's there ? 

Patsy. It's me, sir. 

Flip. OIk Patsy, cot.c here. Tell me, do you know anybody 



IS THE ULSTEE. 

whose last syllabic is named R. T. O. Is ? 

Patsy {aside, frightened). What's the matter with h'm now ? 
{aloud ) I don't know what you mean, sir ? 

Flip. Tell me the truth, Patsy. I'm asking for his own good. 
You know he lost his oveicoat and I want to take it back to him, 
that's all. Did nobody of that name ever call ? 

Patsv. What nunc, sir ? 

Flip. Morton, Norton, Porton, Quarton, Sorton; or any other 
ending in U. T. O. N. 

Patsy {reading the address of the letter in her hand). Or Barton ? 

Fltp, BMrton ? Do you know anybody by the name of Barton ? 

Patsy. No, sir; but it's writ here, Mr. Geoffrey Barton. 

Flip, {seizing it). A letter ! from Avhom ? It's my wife's hand- 
wriiing. 

P.'.tsy. Mrs. Flipper told me to drop it in the box, sir ! 

Flip. I'd attend to it. Go ! 

Patsv. But she told me to do it at once, sir. 

Flip. Go ! 

Patsy. Yes, sir. {aside) Goodness, what a man he is ! [Exit. 

Flip, {reading the address). Mr. Geoff re}^ Barton ! Geoffrey: sure 
enough, that was his heathenish name. She didn't know the rest of 
it. {tears open the envehpe and reads) *'\ should be pleased to have 
you call at the house. Mrs. Valentine Flipper." {laughing xenoni- 
ously) She should be pleased to hnve him call at the house. She 
invites Geoffrey. That damn'd Jeff for short ! {looks at the address) 
414 Clarendon street. Where's that directory ? Let me see if that's 
the right number, {turns the leaves) Babber, Backer, Badder, Baffer, 
Bagger, Baddington, Banker, Barber, Barker, Barton. Here's the 
viper ! Barton, Geoffrey, 414 Clarendon— and here's an advertising 
card subjoined. *' Geoffrey Barton, Institution for Physical Educa- 
tion. Barton's System of Development." {repeats) Barton's system 
of development, {pauses hopelessly) Oh, Mrs. Flipper, this is too much, 
100 much ! To be victimized by a Barton s,y stem of development; this 
is more than I can stand, {calling l.) Peter ! I say, Peter ! 

Enter Peter, l. 

Peter, I want you to come with me. I have an affair of honor to 
settle and I want you to be a witness, {pats Mm on the hack) I like 
your looks, Peter. I'll confide in you — you must know^ that I am 
betrayed and sold under my very roof — but you, Peter, you look 
honest ? 

Peter (c). Yes, Mr. Flipper, that's what I am, honest. 

Ehter Sadie, ii. She attempts to cross, hut seeing Petek, screams and 

runs hack. 

Fl p. Here, Sadie, stay ! {goes to her and leads her c.) Take a look 
at this young man. He is your long-expected Peter. 

Sadie {very sadly). Yes, I know. 

Flip. What do you say ? 

Sadie. Yes. I see him, uncle.* 

Flip. Come, come, none of this, {(o Petek) Here, Peter, intro- 
duce yourself 

Peter. How do you mean, sir ? 

Flip. Lord bless me I what people these are ! {leading Peter 



THE UL^^Tt:^{. 19 

across) Co to her I I wont slaud any ceremony iu my 1igusc\ Go 
shake hands. Make yourself at. home. 

Petek. Is it your orders, sir y 

Flip. ( 'ertainl3\ ' (Peter, rerf/ mvch embarrassed, goes to Sadie, 
takes her hand like a pump-handle and shakes it.) 

FiJP. That's right. Now for the embrace and the first kiss of 
welcome. 

Sadie {stepping hack). Oh, uncle ! 

Flip. No airs, miss; do as I tell you. Peter, go ahead. 

Petlr. I'm kinder skeered, sir. 

Flip. Bless me, what a Loodle you are? Go ahead! there! 
{pu><heshini toicards her. He clumsily embraces her, while she sinks 
her head abashed^ and he then kisses her awkwardly on cheek. Flipper 
vX back, ready to start, icith ulster oxer his arm.) 

CURTAIN. 



ACT II. 

SCENE. — Combined Reception and Exhibition room at Professor 
Bartom's. Main entrance at back, door l., leading into another 
rovm. Piano r. Various kinds of gymnastic apparatus, such as 
parlor roiring-machine, etc., 2^lciced ctbout the sides. Chairs ranged 
against the walls. The body of the stage is deroidv of furniture. 
"Crash'' covers the carpet. 

As the curtain rises Agnes leads Wilmington cautiously on from door 
L. Wilmington holding Geoffrey's idster of Act I. over his 
arm. AVilmington dressed en in Act 1. 

Agnes. Come in here, Wilmington ; we shall be alone. Mollier 
is so excited about Geoffrey's staying out all night that I didn't want 
her to hear you speak of him. Now tell me all you know about 
Lim. 

WiL. I don't know anything more than that I found this ulster at 
our house. I asked Sadie, and she said Geoffrey left her at ten 
o'clock last evening, and that was the last she saw^ of him. 

Agnes. This is very si range, Wilmington. To disappear myste- 
riously and leave his coat behind — I can't make it out at all. 

AYiL. Don't Avorry, Agnes ; it will all come right. 

Agnes. I don't intend 1o worry. Besides it's an ill Avind that 
blows nobody any good. I've Iseen trying to get hold of Geoffrey's 
ulster for a week. I've had one made like it — they're all the style — 
and I wanted to compare them and see how near I had come to 
matching them. 

WiL. You might hav^e had mine if you had asked me for it. 

Agnes. And you w^ould have frozen for my sake, like Pierre in 
the ''Two Orphans," wouldn't you, you dear good boy ? 

WiL. For your sake I'd {voice ^/Mrs. B. heard off.) 

Agnes. There's mamma ! Go, Wilmington. (Jiurrying him to door 
at back) I don't want her to see you here. * 

WiL. For vour sake I'd— go \ (eU door) but I shall come back. 

{Exit. 



20 THE I LSTEII. 

AoxEb. I must hkU' this iil>ter till the storm is over. It would 
only get mamma more excited if she were to see it. ( (/oes to the piarn^ 
and put a the uUtcr down under the top Ud, then seats herself at piano,) 

Enter Mrs. Barton, l. 

Mrs. B. You're here, are \^ou ? What are you doing ? 

Agnes. Practicing. 

Mrs. B. {pacing stage). D'you know, Agnes, do what 1 will 1 can't 
get it out of my head. 

Agnes. Get what out of your head, mamma ? 

Mrs. B. Geoffrey's turning up without his overcoat. 

Agnes. Wiiat of that, mamma ? 

Mrs. B, I'm not an infant — and I don't believe in fairy stories. 

Agnes. Fairy stories ! What do you mean, mamma ? 

Mrs. B. I don't choose to accept 3^our brother's explanation of bis 
absence. Pretends to have been chatting with a friend till late and 
to have lost his iatch-ke}^ ; says he didn't want to w^ake us up at that 
hour of the night. 

Agnes. That may be true. 

Mrs. B. That may be true ? Nothing may Ixi true. It's false I 
Is there any need of coming home without an overcoat, no matter 
what time of night it is ? What will the neighbors think ? I de- 
clare I'm ashamed to walk across the street. 

Agnes. Don't worr3% mamma ; I'm sure nobody saw him. 

Mrs. B. I'm sure everybody did. People will talk and interfere 
in other people's affairs. I'm sure I don't know why they should. 
I alwa^^s mind my own business. 

Old Barton {pokes his head through the door). Where arc the par- 
lor skates ? {disappears immediately. ) 

Mrs. B. On the top shelf, {to Agnes) And to keep me in such a 
state of mind ! I declare it's dreadful. 

AgisEs. But, mamma, Geoffrey's not a child. 

Mrs. B, Who isn't a child ? *^Isn't he my child ? Am I not his 
mother ? 

Agnes, I mean, he's grown now, and he's a lawyer, and has an 
office, and all that. He doesn't need looking after so much. 

Mrs. B. Doesn't he ? I see you are getting these modern notions 
into your head. I don't care ho^: big he is, or how^ many offices he 
has — if he was the President of the United States — he's my son, and 
I'm his mother, and he's accountable to me for his conduct. I be- 
long to the old school, and with Heaven's help I mean to bring you 
up in it too. 

Barton {popping his head in as before). Where are the pai lor skates? 
{disappears.) 

Mrs. B. On the top shelf, I told you. 

Agnes. What does father want with the parlor skates ? 

Mrs. B. Have you forgotten that to-day is Wednesday, and that 
you are to exercise with him at 2 o'clock { 

Agnes. Oh bother, mamma ! I hate those parlor skates, and what 
earthly good is there in my rolling around on them with papa dragging 
me all over the room ? 

Mrs. B. It isn't for you to argue what good there is in it. It's for 
you^o obe3^ It's your father's idea of physical education, and it's 
not for you to have any contrary opinion. 

Agnes. But papa claims that a young girl must know how to 



Tin: iLSTKu. ' 21 

skate or she wont get a hiisbaiul, and I don't believe it. If I have 
to skate myself into some man's affections I'd rather not get married. 
And, besides, Wilmmgton doesn't skate. I'm satisfied to luvve him 
for a husband, and I needn't go on the ice to get him. 

Mrs. B. There it is; just as I said. In my time, before a yonm>' 
girl presumed to say whom she would or wouldn t have, she cou- 
sulted her parents. And this Wilmington of whom you speak, don't 
you suppose Mr. Flipper's consent will be necessary before his son 
marries ? 

Agnks. Very likely. 

Mrs. B. And with all the money Mr. Flipper has, do you suppose 
he'll consent to his son's marrying youf 

Agnes. I shouldn't be surprised, mamma. 

Mrs. B. But /should. And j^ou might as well impress it upon 
your mind, now as ever, that no man shall ever marry a daughter of 
mine unless his father comes to us and pleads his cause in the good 
old fashion. 

Barton (asbrfore). Where ff?-e the parlor skates? {disappears.) * 

Mrs. B. {screaming). On the top shelf, I told you. Mercy on us, 
what a torment it is to have such children and ^i'deaf husband besides. 

[Exit. 

Agnes. Poor papa, he is so d^af. And he isn't deaf like other 
people, either. He never confesses that he doesn't hear, but he an- 
swers you just as though he did. I've tried time and again to reason 
with him on the subject of his physical education, but it's of no 
use. 

Enter 'RxjiTOJs, l., holding skates in one hand, writing in the other, j^en 

over his ear. 

Barton. Here, Agnes, go and put these on and come back. 
{crosses r. ) 

Agnes {taking skates). There's nothing gained by argument. I 
might as well. ^ " [Exit. 

Barton. AVho tells you so ? It's wrong, physically. She's gone. 
Quite right, {reads from circular) ''Barton's System of Education 
and Physical Development is based upon the broad scientific ground 
that action is life. The more perfect the action, the more perfect the 
life. The husband of to day has the right to demand physical 
perfection in the wife of his choice. Skating and dancing are the 
two most valuable factors in physical education. In Barton's system 
of development, the invaluable aid of these two factors is made par- 
ticularly manifest. Together they constitute action in its most pic- 
turesque form." {speaks) That's a good introduction for a circu- 
lar. The main thing is to practice what you preaoh. I do it in my 
own family. Agnes is a sensible girl ordinarily, but physically she's 
obstreperous, {(joes to door L.) Well, are you ready? (rZ;Yrir.s Agnes 
forth from door jj., on skates. She holds his arm with both hands in 
nervous dread, he immediately runs icith her across the stage, she 
screams. ) 

Agnes. Oh, papa, papa ! I'm falling ! {aside) He doesn't hear me. 

Barton. I'll show you. Now step out with your left foot, so. {bus. 
Barton rolls her around tlie room and during tlie skating lectures to Iter 
as follows, interrupts himself with bits of advice such as ''steady,'* 
' ' t^ht foot,'' '' left," etc., bus. ad. lib. Barton during the skating is 
holding her right hand with his left) You see, Agnes, in my day the 



22 _ THE i;L5<Ti:u. 

education of daughters was considered of minor consequence so long 
as tJie sons were educated, and it is to that lamentable circumstance, 
more than to any other, that I ascribe the fact that my live sisters 
are all old maids. 

Agnes. I don't care if they are. 

Barton. Now, it is not only mentall}^ but physically, that our 
dau<:hter3 must be educated. Skating has moie advantages than 
youliave any idea of. Statistics on the subject show that more 
matches are made in skating rinks than any where else. 

Agnes. I don't see what need there is to force me upon the market. 
I'm not out of my teens yet, and besides, {she screams loudly) I've 
chosen my husband. 

Barton. Sometimes. 

Agnes. He doesn't understand a word I say; what's the good of a 
soliloquy ? I wont stand it. {tries io break cue ay frovi Idm, nearly falls.) 

Barton. Not so violently, my dear. The beauty of my system of 
action is the gradual accumulation of muscular power by progressive 
development. Too much activity — as opposed to action — destroys 
the gradual effect. 

Agnes. I don't care if it does. I've had enough of it. {breaks 
away from Mm.) 

Barton, There, there, you see. {tries io keep lier from falling hut 
doesn't succeed, and drops Tier on the stage; she makes frenzied efforts to 
cover her ankles with her dress, Barton standing over her) Your posi- 
tion now is the reverse of graceful. I couldn't give yon a better 
illustration of the abuse of my sj^stem. 

Agnes {with mournful humor). I don't think it's j^ours so much as 
mine. 

Barton. Physically, this is altogether wrong. 

Agnes. It is. 

Enter Wilmington at hack. 

Oh, Wilmington, come and help me up. (Wil. comes nimhly doicn, 
hows to Barton saying ** How d'you do, sir?" and then gives his hand 
to Agnes, lifting her up.) 

Barton. How do you do, sir ? What can I do for you ? 

Wil. After some hesitation and after walking up and down the 
street about a dozen times, I've concluded the best thing to do was 
10 return to your daughter and ask her to unite with me in asking 
your consent. ( imuse . ) 

Barton. Nine dollars a quarter, in advance. Have a prospectus ? 
{goes to desk at hack to get one.) 

Agnes {aside to Wil.). Don't you know papa is friglitfully deaf ? 
He doesn't understand a word you say. 

Wil. Poor fellow. This is embarrassing. (Barton comes doicn 
with printed prospectus, hands it ^<9 Wil.) Thank you, sir. {botes very 
courteously.) 

Barton. Just the thing you need physically. 

Agnes {going up to her father and screaming in his ear). The gentle- 
man wants to see mamma. 

Barton {}:ery angrily). What are you screaming about ? One would 
suppose I was deaf. If you wish to see Mrs. Barton (Agnes 56cA;6>7iS' 
to Wil, henod^) I'll send her in to you. {aside) I don't know what he 
wants with my wife. I dare say it's the son of one of her numerous 
female friends. All deadheads too. {going) Agnes, show the gentle- 
man the new swimming apparatus. 



THE TTLSTEIl. 2;j 

Agnes {wlio has been leaning against back of chair which "WiL. has 
'placed c.) ADjlliing for an excuse. Will. But tell me what brought 
you back so soon ? {sits.) 

WiL. {taking a chair r. and sitting beside her). What I told 3^our 
father was the truth. I've grown tired of dodging in and out of the 
house like a guilty wretch, and so I concluded to speak to your 
father. 

Agnes. But don't you know, Wilmington, that mother is the 
father of this house ? 

WiL. Is she ? then I'll speak to her. 

Agnes. But I'm sure you haven't the courage to do that. 

WiL. For your sake, Agnes, I'd have the courage to do an3'lhing 
and everything. 

Agnes {clapping her hands in delight). Honest]}- ? {jumping up, her 
feet Uldefrani under her,Wiij. catches her andJioldsher, her head resting 
on his shoulder, his arm encircling her waist. Sweetly) Everyihm^ ? 

WiL. Yes, everything', except one thing. 

Agnes. And what's that ? {resumes her seat.) 

WiL. That's to talk t > my oicn father. You know, Agnes, that's 
the one weak spot in my composition. I can be fluent on occasions 
— so fluent that I fairly astonish myself — but when I stand face to 
face with the author of my being, I can't tell an adverb from a con- 
junction. 

Agnes. That's very unfortunate, especially since mamma has just 
told me that no man coulil have me unless his father came after me. 

WiL. This IS perplexing. It would be easy enough to get father's 
consent. He couldn't look at you and refuse it. But it's the 
awkwardness of approaching tb^ subject. I have an idea. 

Agnes. What is it ? 

WiL. I'll ask your mother for you and you ask my father for me. 

Agnes {jumping up as before). Splendid ! (same bus. of skates and 
position.) 

WiL. And each can assist the other when the times comes. 

Enter Mrs. and Mr. Barton. Agnes and Wilmington separate, 
Agnes still holding WtltMington's hand to steady herself 

Agnes {introducing Wil.). Mothci-, permit me to introduce Mr. 
Wilmington Flipper. 

Wi'L. {quite at Ids ease, laughingly). Whose position at present is 
more or less embarrassing. 

Mrs. B. {very coldly). I must confess, Mr. Flipper, that your visit 
is a great, surprise to us. 

Barton {who has noted Agnes' gesture of introduction). Delighted 
to meet you. (Mrs. Barton nudges him) I wonder who he is. {aside.) 

WiL. I trust, madam, you will give me an opportunity to explain 
my visit ? 

Agnes ipehind him). That's right, Will. 4 

Mrs. B. I am very anxious to hear. 

Agnes. Hadn't w^e better be seated ? 

WiL. Permit me. {goes nimbly to get Mrs. B. a cliair.) 

Barton. You a^-e not going ? What's your hurry ? (3Irs. B. 
nudges him) I guess he's a dancer, {sits.) 

Mrs. B. {after they are seated ). Well, then, we are waiiing. 

WiL. To come directly to the point, madam — my income being 



04 THE ULSTEP.. 

sufficenlly large for two, I have for some some time past been ia 
search of a partner for life 

Agnes {asuie). That's splendid. Will. Go on. 

WiL. A kindly fate has thrown me in the way of your daughter, 
Avhose many graces have charmed me- 

Agnes. That's lovely. 

WiL. And I come to ask her hand in marriage. 

Agnes Yes, mamma ! {about tojump vp, but thinks better of it.) 

WiL. I am all the more sanguine of success from the fact that I 
flatter myself to have gained the g(;od will of Miss Agnes, (pause.) 

Barton (^ffter pause). Who do you think will be elected ? 

Mks. B. {after nudging Barton). Mr. Flipper, we are flattered by 
yowY proposal, and the interest you seem to manifest in my child 
does a mother's heart good. However, reared as I have been in the 
old school, I should not like to deviate from the custom W'hich re- 
quires that there should be a previous understanding between the 
parents. We are plain old-fashioned people, unused to the social 
eccentricities of the upper circles, and if your father should do us the 
honor to visit us on your behalf, I assure you — so far as I am con- 
cerned — nothing shall stand in the way of your happiness. 

WiL. {gleefully). jVIadam, your words have made; me too happy to 

entertain for one moment the thought that my father could oppose 

this union. I hasten to see him and bring him here to unite with me 

in gaining your approval. [Ilfrrries to door, followed by Agnes, who, 

Jwlding Jm hand, rolls after him. He exits. 

Mrs. B. The boy seems quite beside him^^elt' with joy. 

Agnes. And oh, mamma, I'm. so happ}^ I don't know what to do. 

Mrs. B. Now, then, don't rejoice too much; you know what I 
always tell you. 

Agnes. Yes, I know; I'm to take him in tea-spoonfuls according 
to the old school. 

Barton. He appeared to be a bright young fellow. 

Agnes {iclio has been working Jiersdf doicti to him). Wasn't he, papa? 
{embracing him.) 

Barton. Was he a book -agent ? AVhat did he want us to sub- 
scribe to ? 

Mrs. B. Oh, dear me. {screayming into his ear) He came after our 
daughter. 

Barton {angrily). Will you stop it ? (Mrs. B. goes to writing-desk) 
Screaming into my ear as if I was deaf. I've understood everything. 

Agnes. Everything wrong. 

Mrs. B. {coming down and handing him what sh£ has written). That'll 
give him some idea what it is all about, 

Barton. So he's come for our daughter, has he ? And I'm not to 
know a word of it ? You treat me as if I had no existence, physi- 
cally. 

Agnes (nervously claspiruj her haruls in pleading). Oh, papa dear ! 

3Irs. B. Leave him to me, Agnes, (takes his arm, leading him ojf.) 

Bart6n (going off). He is a very likely young man, physically. 
But I'm her father, and I certainly have a right to know who's get- 
ting married ii my family. I don't want everything done behind 
my back, (at door) In short, I want this sort of thing to stop, 

[Exit tcith 3Irs. B. , talking withmit. 

Agnes. Thank Heaven, the worst is over ! And now unless all 
signs fail, I shall soon be known to the world as '* Mrs. Wilmington 
Fiipper." 



Tin: I'l.sTKi;. 25 



Enter Geoffhi:y (it hack. 

Geof. Oh, Agnes, is that 3-011 ? 

Agnes. You're liere at last, are 3'ou ? Now I should just like to 
know where you've been keeping yourself all night ? 

Geof. Ordinarily that would be a very indiscreet question to ask; 
but I don't mind conliding in you, Agnes; you are my sweet little 
sister. 

Agnes. Thank you. {striding over to Mm.) 

Geof. {continuing). A little angel on wheels, in fact, {taking her in, 
Ms arms and then seating himself on 'piano stool, while she stands oxer 
Mm.) 

Agnes. I'm curious to hear. 

Geof. You know that about a week ago your prospective hus- 
band 

Agnes. Wilmington ! 

Geof. {smiling). I'm glad you haven't forgotten the name. Wilm- 
ington introduced me to his cousin, Sadie, one of the dearest, love- 
liest 

Agnes. Y"es, I know all that; and I know, too, that since that 
time you've been fairly out of your wdts ; so skip that part and tell 
me 

Geof. Skip that part ? Agnes, have the libres of your nature been 
wrung with the keenest ecstasy, and do you ask me to skip that 
part ? Well, since you say so, so be it. It is skipped. Within the one 
week of our acquaintance, %ve have exchanged seven letters, 

Agnes. Lovely number! And seven ahead of us. We haven't ex- 
changed one. 

Geof. But Sadie is kept carefully guarded, and very rarely leaves 
the house except in her aunt's company. 

Agnes. Which makes the course of true love run a little rougher 
even than usual. 

Geof. That's a sagacious w^ay of puttiug it. Y^ou have a pene- 
trating mind. 

Agnes. It's secret sympathy, Geoffrey. Go on. 

Geof. Yesterday afternoon I received word that Mr. Flipper 
w^ould not be at home in the evening. 

Agnes. Fortune smiled. It was the very opportunity for a visit. 

Geof. Right again. Y" on have a ^^7'^ penetrating mind. 

Agnes. More secret sympathy. Go on. 

Geof. Well, then, towards dark I lay upon the w^atch, and when 
I saw old Flipper drive off, I slipped into the house. 

Agnes. That's lovely ! 

Geof. Mrs. Flipper kept in her room, and then we sat 

Agnes. Two souls with but a single thought ; two hearts that beat 
as one. 

Geof. Precisely. But these two hearts beating as one must have 
beaten so loudly that w^e .couldn't hear the clock strike. It was after 
ten, when, all of a sudden, W'C heard footsteps. Sadie was in fright, ul 
alarm ; so was I. I only heard her say, • ' Quick, through there ! " 
and I found myself pushed through a door. As soon as I got into 
something like a calm frame of mind I found myself in a dark hall- 
way. I fumbled about until I fumbled myself into the conviction 
that I had to choose between searching for an invisible front door, 
with a burglar-alarm attachment, or spending the night on the stairs. 



56 THE LLSTKU. 

As discretion's the betit^r part of valor, I spent the niglit on ilio 
stairs. In the morning I hid in a hall closet long enough for a servant 
to pass ])y nie and open the front door, and then I escaped. 

Agnes. If mother were to hear this story the old school would 
never recover ! 

Geof. But the worst is still to come. 

Agnes. No ? 

Geof. Iu the progress of the night — and, as j^ou can imagine, the 
night on a strange staircase don't progress any too rapidly — I reasoned 
myself into a resolve. I resolved to face the music. 

Agnes. What music ? 

Geof. I decided to march boldly to the front r.nd demand the 
surrender of my charming captive. 

Agnes. Did they surrender ? 

Geof. Did they ? Agnes, I have heard of defeats ; I have heard 
of routs ; I have heard of total demolitions and destructions before 
now ; but they all fall short of the entire annihilation I met with 
when I faced Mrs. Flipper. 

Agnes {becoming alarmed). What do you mean ? 

Geof. I mean that it was lucky I didn't meet the uncle, if the 
aunt alone was capable of so much in so little time. 

Agnes. Do explain yourself. 

Geof. I was not only shown the door ; I was sent through it. 1 
was dismissed ignominiously, and requested to make my visits as few 
and as far between as I conveniently could. 

Agnes. Oh dear, dear ! {buries her head in her hands on ])iano.) 

Geof. Wh}^ Agnes, what's the matter ? What makes you take 
it so to heart ? 

Agnes {sobbing). Now^ I shall die an old maid, and I shall never 
get over it. 

Geof. Do talk sense. I never could understand a woman in tears. 

Agnes. Wilmington was here to-day. He's going to ask his father 
to call on us to have a talk with mamma and papa, and now your in- 
terference has spoiled it all. 

Geof. But, my dear sister, don't grieve over nothing. 

Agnes. Oh leave me alone. What right have you to be so awfully 
in love, a great big man like you ? you ought to be ashamed. 

l^Still sobbing, rolls herself off jj. 

Geof. She isn't altogether reasonable ; but she isn't altogether 
wrong, either. But hang it, it isn't my fault. I wonder what makes 
Mrs. Flipper so bitter any way. I shall write to Sadie. I wish I 
knew some w^ay of meeting her. {musingly, plays the piano with one 
hand.) 

Flipper appears at hack. Susan comes on and exits l. Peter behind 

Flipper. 

Flip, {to Peter). Peter, my boy, you wait outside till I call you, 
wont you ? I may want a witness. 

Peter. Yes, sir. [Exit. 

Flip, {comes down to the back of Geoffrey, tcho is still playing, and 
touches him on the shoulder). Very clever. 

Geof. {with a start). Eh ? {aside) By Jove ! it's the uncle. 

Flip. Are you a music teacher ? 

Geof. Sir? 

Flip. If you are, I have use for you. 



TlfE ULSTER. 37 

Geof. Indeed ! What is it ? 

Flip. I want a piano teacher for my house. 

Geof. {placing chair). Oh, for your wife I suppose ? 

Flip. No, sir ; my wife has struck her last note ; for my niece. 

Geof. Indeed ? 

Flip. Have you any hours to spare ? 

Geof. (a^ide). This is a gorgeous opportunity I 

Flip. What do you say ? 

Geof. When do you want me to begin ? 

Flip. As soon as you like ; to-day if you choose, (taking out Ms 
card-case— aside) I want to get on the inside as well as the outside of 
this matter, (aloud) Here's my card. We'll talk further at the house. 

Geof. Thank you, sir. I'll be there. 

Flip. Do you give lessons here too ? 

Geof. Here ? No. sir ; I live here. 

Flip. Ah ! Then you are acquainted with Mr. Barton ? 

Geof. Slightly. 

Flip. What sort of a fellow is this Barton ? 

Enter Susan, l. 

Susan. Mrs. Barton will be here directly. [Exit, c 

Flip, (amazed). Mrs.! — did she sav Mrs. Barton ? Is Barton mar 
ried ? 

Geof. I should say he was. He has a son as old as I am. 

Flip. No ? This beats all creation. Married ! 

Geof. What's the matter ? 

Flip, (tcildly pacing the stage). Play something ! Play something 
on the piano— something loud ! I don't care what it is. 

Geof. But, sir — (aside) What the deuce can I play ? 

Flip. Play something. I don't care what it is if it's only loud 
enough, (still pacing) IMarried ! 

Geof. Here's a fix ! I don't know a note, (strikes the keys.) 

Flip. Do you call that loud ! 

Geof. There's something wrong with the piano, (raises lid) Why, 
hello, what's this ? (pulls out the ulster) An ulster ! 

Flip, (pauses). An ulster ! 

Geof. It's mine. How did it get here ? ■ 

Flip. One moment, sir. How many ulsters do j^ou own ? 

Geof. Only this one. 

Flip. Do you own this one ? {liolds his up.) 

Geof. There is certainly an astonishing resemblance, (holding both 
up) But this one's mine, (putting it on.) 

Flip. Does Mr. Barton own an ulster ? 

Geof. I don't know, sir ; very likely. Here comes Mrs. Barton. 
(aside) And I was afraid he had found mine ! I breathe again, (aloud) 
Good-day, sir. I'll see you at the house. [Exit. 

Flip, (pacing the stage). Married ! married ! The scoundrel ! I 
feel the room spinning round. And this ulster, like a grim spectre, 
is gnashing its teeth and crying. '* Married ! married I " Why don't 
the earth open and swallow me, (sits, exhausted, r.) 

Enter Mrs. Barton. 

]\Irs. B. Mr. Flipper, I am delighted to meet you, and I feel greatly 
honored by this visit. Pray keep your seat, (she sits) Although I've 



28 THE TLSTER. 



never enjoyed a personal acquaintance vvitli yon, I have often heard 
of 3^ou as a gentleman of loftiest principles and warmest heart. 

Flip. Thank you, madam. 

Mrs. B. And my esteem for you, I need not tell you, is fully 
shared by my husband. 

Flip, {aside). She little suspects what an atrocious blackguard that 
husband of her's is. (aloud) Madam, the fact is, I came to see Mr. 
Barton personally. 

Mrs. Then I 'shall send him to you. But will 3^ou allow me to 
ask you just one question on ni}^ own account, {aside) and for Agnes' 
sake. Do you come favorably disposed in the matter, or otherwise? 

Flip. I regret, madam, to say otherwise — as otherwise as possible. 

Mrs. B. Indeed, sir ? I am su( prised. 

Flip. You would not be surpiised if you knew the scheming that 
has been going on behind my back. 

Mrs. B. {conciliaiingly). But, my dear sir, the two people seem to 
have taken such a great fancy to each other — in fact, they have be- 
come most devotedly attached ; and it is best to be a little lenient — 
don't you think so ? To be too strict in such matters often makes 
them all the worse. 

Flip, (^(clio has been listening to all this in amazement). Can it be, 
madam, that you know about this affair ? 

Mrs. B. Why, certainly. They have been at fault a little — that 
is, we of the old school w^ould call it a fault ; but there is really no 
harm done. We must overlook these things. 

Flip. Never, madam. When we have lost confidence the game 
is up. 

Mrs. B. But you must not regard the thing too rigidly. At first 
I thought as 3'ou do. I was nearly beside myself. I did my best 
to oppose the thing ; but finally I became resigned. 

Flip. I can't conceive how you can possibly palliate the thing. 

3Irs. B. Looking at the matter, after all, ia its true light, what is 
the harm ? 

Flip. And can you ask this, madam ? 

Mrs. B. You know, Mr. Flipper, we are too apt to be stern and 
inflexible at first, only to regret our cruelty when it is too late. I 
am an old Vv^oraan, you are an old man, and we are neither of us any 
too long for this world. 

Flip. Well, well ? 

Mrs. B. Let us make as many happy as we can. Let us yield to 
these two lovers, and give them their hearts' desire, {going) I'll send 
my husband in to you. [Exit. 

Flip. This is beyond all I've ever heard. This is a depth of in- 
iquity I've never fathomed ! Has all the world gone mad ? and am 
I the only sane man in it ? This is a terrible family, this Barton 
family I It's enough to destroy faith in all mankind ! 

Re-enter Mrs. Barton. 

Mrs. B. My husband will be here directly, {aside) I've told him 
what it is all about. I can safelv leave hini^ilone. {aloud) Here he 
is ! ' 

Enter Barton. 

I'll leave it all to vou, c:entlemen, and I trust it will end happily. 

[lixit. 



THE ULSTER. 29 

Barton {grasping Flipper's hand). I'm delighted ' 

Flip. I'm not, 

Baktox. Wont you be seated ? 

Flip. AYe can settle this matter standing. Do you know this ? 
{Jwlding up the ulster.) 

Barton {thinking he Irishes it laid aside). Permit me. {takes it and 
lays it on chair l., returns c. and sits.) 

Flip. And so it belongs to you ? {sits.) 

Barton. My wife has told you 

Flip. Your wifeendeavois*to palUate her husband's rascality. 

Barton. There isn't much left for me to say. 

Flip. Y^ou think not ? 

Barton. The human affection defies all philosophy 

Flip. Does it ? 

Barton. And is not debarred by obstacles, physicall}'. However, 
I cannot refrain from expressing my delight at having become con- 
nected with so distinguished a family as yours. 

Flip. The appalling audacity of the man ! 

Barton. My wife and I have discussed the matter in all its bear- 
iogs. 

Flip. That was very sociable of you. 

Barton. I am not a rich man, Mr. Flipper; but that fact can 
scarcely be of much consequence to a man of your meaus. 

Flip, {aside). Does he expect me to pa}" for the hixury besides ? 
{aloud) I've heard enough, sir, more than enough. There is but one 
course open— a legal separation. 

Barton. My wife and I have determined to leave all the arrange- 
ments to 3^ou. So far as I am concerned, I'm inclined to favor pre- 
cision and dispatch. 

Flip. For once I'm of your opinion, {takes his hat,) 

Barton {seeing the action). Wont you please wait to a moment for 
me ? I want to get some papers and my hat, and I'll join you. 

Flip. Do so. 

Barton {at door, returns). I'm glad to find you so pleasant. 

Flip. Yes, I feel d-~d pleasant. 

Barton. Y^ou're a man of the world; I can tell that at a glance, 
physically. 

Flip. Can you ? 

Barton. Y'our delicacy and discretion in this affair do 3'ou in- 
finite end it. 

Flip. You're right. There are men who would have blown your 
brains out. 

Barton. I scarcely expected that we should come to a friendly 
understanding so soon; but as I said before, 3'ou're a man of the 
world. " {Exit. 

Flip. ISTow how is it possible — that no — I wont lose my temper. 
I've run against so many snags since morning, that I've grown im- 
pervious to all emotidns. Tlie cool presumption with which that 
old sinner goes to work, is simply magnificent, {goes about and looks 
at engravings) '' Barton's Ph^^sical Development." He has devoted 
so much time to physical development, that his moral development 
hasn't had elbow room. 

Eater Wilmington. 

WiL. II( re's the governor. 

Flip. Hello, AVilmiuizMon, is that ^•ou 'i 



so THE ULSTER. 

WiL. No, sir — I mean, yes, sir. 

Flip, {sits, with melanclioly softness). Come here, my son. {takes his 
hand) Pledge of my earliest love — image of my dear departed. 

WiL. Yes, sir. 

Flip. Wilmington, amid all the btiffets of treachery and malice, 
the link that binds us father and .'on is still firm and true ? 

AYiL. Yes, sir — no, sir — yes, sir. {pause) Father ! 

Flip. What is it, my son ? 

WiL. {aside). I must make the effort. I wish Agnes were here. 
{aloud) Yes, sir; you said once, father — yes, sir — you'd like to see 
me married and settled. 

Flip. I did, my son. And when I spoke of marriage then, I little 
thought what a settler it was. Tell me, my son, if you were to com- 
mit matrimony, what would vou expect ? 

WiL. Sir ? 

Flip. You w^ould expect to find married life a paradise, wouldn't 
you ? 

WiL. No, sir — yes, sir. 

Flip. So I thought. A fountain of perpetual love ? 

WiL. Y-yes, sir. 

Flip. So I thought. An eternal sail upon a sea of joy ? 

WiL. Y-yes, sir. {k.Q^¥.^ appears at door i.. , and listens.) 

Flip. So I thought. But, Wjlmingtou, it's all a mistake. Mar- 
riage is the tomb of happiness. 

WiL. Yes, sir— no, sir. 

Flip, The executioner of all hope and pleasure. 

WiL. Yes, sir — no, sir. 

Agnes {coming doion). But, Mr. Flipper, you married twice your- 
self. 

Flip. I don't know you, but I deserved the reproach. It only 
goes to prove that some people don't come to their senses even at 
fortv. 

WiL. But, father 

Flip. The man who loses one wife and marries another, doesn't 
deserve to have I een a widower. 

Agnes (/6> WiL.). Leave it to me, Will. (?'(? Flipper) But, sir, all 
experiences are not alike, and I trust your son may find it different- 
And in venturing to present myself to you as tlie bride of his 
choice 

WiL. Yes, father; Agne^^ — Agnes Barton. 

Flip, {with sudden burst of Hole nee). Whafs that? 

Agnes. Yes. sir; Agnes, daughter of Geoffrey Barton— Mrs. Wil- 
mington Flipper, just as soon as we have your consent. 

WiL. Yes, sir. 

Flip. Miserable wretch — out of my sight ! 

WiL. Wh}^- why— I 

Flip. How dare you face me with such a proposal ? 

Agnes. Surely, sir. I didn't expect 

Flip. Of course you didn't expect; you had no right to expect. 
But if Wilmington marries into the Barton family, I'll disown him, 
I'll leave him out of my will— I'll— (^t? Wilmington) Leave, sir, this 
instant. 

WiL. Yes, sir. {retreating.) 

Agnes {to Wil.). You'd better go; there's some mistake. 

AViL. I guess there is. " [Exit. 

Agnes {'o Flipper). I regret vciy much, sir, to have ventured so 



TlIK ITLSTET.. 31 

far bcTOud the pnle of strict decorum, as to plead your son's cause. 
Possibly I deserve this rebuke, tliough {icith tears in her voice) I liardly 
think tiiat true devotion need hide its head, even at the risk of sucli 
wrath as > ours. [Enf, c. 

Flip. 3Iorc of the Barton as-uranre. Here, on the one hand I'm 
trying \vith all my might to get out of their clutches, and on the 
other my son is trying to marry me into them. Why, I'd sooner 
make him the Imsband of one of Jezebers daughters! {rejieciing) What 
shall I do with him ? It takes a poison to cure a poison. I'll tind 
another wife for him. Some one sensible and energetic, who will 
take all this nonsense out of liim. By Jove ! I've got it. {calling) 
Peter ! 

Enter Petek. 

Come here, Peter. It was cruel to keep you wailing so long. 

Peter. That don't make no odds, Mr. 'Flipper. 

Flip. Peter, didn't you tell me you had a sister ? 

Peter. Yes, sir; a sister in town. 

Flip. In town, is she ? all the better. A fine girl, no doubt ? 

Peter. Yes, sorter. Her name's Moll, she's one year younger'n 
me. 

Flip. Just the thing. A sensible, clever girl ? 

Peter. Yes, sir; she kin cook and she kin wash and she kin iron. 

Flip. In fact, she knows a housewife's duties. Doesn't she want 
to get married ? 

Petek. I shouldn't wonder; she's tried hard enough. 

Flip. Well, I've a match for her. 

Peter. No ? 

Flip. Yes ! 

Peter. She'll be all-fired ixlad ! 

Flip. Hush ! We'll talk of this later. 

Enter Mr. and Mrs. Barton, l. 

]\Irs. B. I hope 3'our interview was pleasant ? {beckons to Barton.) 

Flip. Very. Well, are 3^ou ready ? 

Bar Tox {seeing his icife's signal)^ Excuse me a moment — a word 
with my wife, {goes over to her.) 

Flip, {recalling the ichter). I mustn't forget the corpus delicti. Here, 
Peter, wont you oblige me by carrying this ? 

Barton {arranged ). We're going to the lawyer's or somewhere to 
talk ove. the dowry or something. 

Mrs. B. You've seen my daughter, Mr. Flipper ? 

Flip. I've had that pleasure. 

Mrs. B. She's a lovely girl, Mr. Flipper, though I say it who 
shouldn't. She has all the sweetness of disposition calculated to 
make a man the best and fcmdest of wives. 

Flip. I'm delighted to know that {to Barton) Are you ready ? 

Barton. Not so cold to-day as yesterday ? 

Mrs. B. {grasjnng Flipper's //a/?rO- Grood-bye, Mr. Flipper; I'm 
so happy to know that we've come to such a cheerful understanding. 
{with x>cithob) And yet I can't altogether disguise the pain I feel at 
parting. 

Flip. Console yourself, madam; you'll get over it. 

Mrs. B. We can't alwavs be toirethcr. Nothimr in this world 



32 THE ULSTER. 

endures forever; and yet, sir, you will easily understand the emotiou 
that wells to a mother's heart on such an occasion as this . 
Flip. I wasn't prepared for this. 

Enter Agxes, whhiiKj, and comes to l., and sits, 

Mrs. B. {seeing Agnes). Ah, Agnes, you will some day feci as I 
do now. (Sobbing.) 

Flip. She's one of tlie family. 

Mrs. B. {continuing in great emotion). Ycu will some day know. 
{is choked hu her tears) Ah, 31r. Flipper — (Jays her head on his shoul- 
der.) 

Flip. If you please, madam ? 

Agnes. D-d-don't cry, mamma, (sobs Tiolenthj. Barton, who has 
been gradually overcome, takes out his kerchief and icipes his eyes.) 

Peter {begins to belloic). Boo-hoo ! 

Flip. What's the iiuiiter, Peter ? 

Peter. P.'s too-hoo-oo sad ! 

Barton {through his tears). This is the happiest day of my life. 

Flip. I ought to have brought an umbrella, {all excejit Flipper 
arc tohUng loudly.) 

CURTAIN. 



ACT III. 

SCENE.— >SV/ 7726 as in Act I. 

Discover Geoffrey and Patsy. Geoffrey in his ulster. 

Patsy. Mrs. Flipper and ^Miss Sadie have both gone out shopping. 

Geof. Then I shall wait. Oh, it's all right, I'm^the music teacher. 
(aside) I suppose I must do something music:il. {sings tcildly) Do, re, 
me, fa. 

Patsy. Music teacher ? Yv'ho is it that's going to learn music I 
wonder ? I always mistrusts a muzishican, and this one looks more 
suspicious than most of them, {goes off eying him.) 

Geof. Well, I've got my ulster back; there's some comfort in that. 
Kow, there's only one thing left to do — join forces Aviih Sadie, and 
throAV ourselves conjointly upon the mercy of the old gentleman. 
How long will I have to wait, I wonder ? {takes book from table and 
goes to sofa at hack.) 

Enter John, Snorter and Burton, the stranger. 

Snort. This is the room, nnd here's where Mike stood, when I 
brought the ulster up. He told me to lay it on the chair, and I did. 
I'm very funny that way. 

JoMNT. Then you'll 'ave to wait and see Mr. Flipper. 

Snort. My cab's at the door and I can't wait. [Exit. 

Burton. This is a confoundedly awkward piece of business an}^ 
way. 

John. 'Tisn't my fault. 



THE ULSTER. 33 

BuiiTON. I didn't say it was; but time is money. I am a business 
man. I can't fritter away my time hunting up an ulster all day 
long. 

John. Hi expect Mr. Flipper 'ome every minute; liif you like, I'll 
send the chambermaid hup to you. She may know somethink about 
it. " [Ejit. 

Burton {pacing the stage). This is deucedly provoking. On the 
very first nigiit of my arrival iu town to get off with the boys, and 
not find out till the next morning that my ulster was gone. iVnd 
now to be trotting around all over and making a general and pro- 
miscuous ass of one's self searching for it. 

Geof. {during the above speech, leas been trying to introduce himself). 
Beg pardon ! 

Burton. Beg pardon ! {pause) Hello ! Say! That's it; hand it 
over ! {laying hands on Geoffrey's taster.) 

Geof. Hand what over ? 

J)URT0N. That garment, that cloak, that coat, that ulster ! It's 
mine. 

Geof. Ko you don't, sir I I've gone without this ulster too long 
to yield it at a moment's notice. Who are you, and how can j^ou 
prove property. 

Burton. You'll find an envelope in the inside pocket with my 
name on it. {as Geoffrey opens his ulster, 'Bjj jit o's jams his hand in- 
to the inside pocket.) 

Geof You're mistaken, f-ir. 

Burton. So I am. There was a striking resemblance. I beg 
your pardon ? 

Geof. {buttoning his coat very tightly). Don't mention it ? {aside) 
Another narrow escape; I guess it's safer to withdraw. [E.rif. 

Enter Patsy 

Burton. This was certainly a most astonishmg — Are you the 
chambermaid ? 

Patsy. Yes, sir. What's your name, sir ? 

Burton. What's that to you ? 

Patsy. Nothing ; only if it's Barton 

Burton. Say it is Barton, wdiat then ? 

Patsy. Mr. Flipper wants to see you, 'cause he told me he found 
a ulster belonging_to you. 

Burton. Mr. Flipper found an ulster ? (Patsy nods) It's mine ! 
{going toicards icindow, restlessly) Which way does Mr. Flipper come 
w^hen he does come ? {looks out cf irindoiD.) 

Patsy. How do I know ? 

Enter Sadie, at back, dressed in an uhter and Derby hat; she comes 

doiCTL. 

Patsy. Lor, miss, I didn't know you. 

Sadie {looking in the mirror). Auntie and I have both bought the 
same pattern. They arc all the style. I wonder if uncle has got 
back ? {^ees Burton) Patsy, who is that gentleman ? 

Patsy. His nam: is Barton, mum. \Ex;it 

Sadie. It's Geoffrev's fatlier. 

Burton {turning). What is it ? 

Sadie {boicing politely). Good evening, nir. 



34 THE ULSTER. 

Burton. Good oveniug. {aside) She's got it on ! 

Sadie. Wont you take a seat, sir ? 

Burton. With whom have I the pleasure 

Sadie {archly). I'm Sadie. 

Burton {aside). She's Sadie, {aloud) Oh, you are ? This is pleas- 
ant. I am wailing to see Mr. Piipper. 

Sadie. Oh, uncle is not at home just this minute, hut 

Burton. Yes, I know ; that's why I have been waiting. The fact 
is 

Sadie. I'm afraid you wont find uncle in the best of humor. 

Burton. Oh, I wont ? 

Sadie. You know, uncle's temper is very uncertain. Some days 
he's nice and some days he's ugl}^; this is one of his ugly days. 

Burton. That wont trouble me much. The object of my visit is 
simply— in fact, I've come to see about a lost ulster. 

Sadie. I know ! 

Burton. You know ? {aside) She knows. 

Sadie. Why, yes; uncle found it. 

Burton. You are sure ? 

Sadie. Yes, sir. I trust you have come kindly disposed, sir. 
You'll comt to some understanding with uncle, wont you, sir ? 

Burton. Some understanding ? 

Sadie. Just think, sir. uncle is opposed to it all. 

Burton. Is he, indeed ? 

Sadie. I have asked it — besought it as a blessing even — and he has 
refused. He has set his mind upon another. 

Burton {confused). You don't mean it ? 

Sadie. But you w^ill not be so cruel. You will not rob me — for it 
would be nothing short of robbery, sir. 

Burton {aside). What does she mean by robbery ? {aloud ) But I 
assure you I haven't the slightest idea 

Sadie. To snatch from me the one object of all my hopes, {play- 
fully) Do say you will not ? 

Burton {aside). She has set her heart on that ulster, there's no get- 
ting out of that, {aloud) But, my dear child, I can't really spare 

Sadie. The final separation may seem hard to you, but 

Burton. It isn't ihe final separation so much; that would have 
come some day or other, after it was worn out anyway; but just at 
present 

Sadie. Take everything I have in the world, but do not rob me of 
the one great joy, the one hope, one dream, one prayer of all my life. 

[Exit, R. Bell sounds n., immediately. 
Burton. Well, this is the most remarkable craze I ever met in my 
life. Is she collecting ulsters, or is there something wrong here ? 
(touchi7ig his fo7'ehead) I'm glad I didn't contradict her; it wouldn't 
have been safe, {bell rings again) The servants in this house seem to 
take their time, {bell 7Hngs.) 

Enter Patsy. 

Patsy. Yes, j'cs, I'm coming. 

Burton. There's tlie chambermaid r.gain. Maybe she can tell me 
wliat ails the poor girl. (Patsy about to^go ojf into oadie's romn) Say, 
little one ! 

Patsy. What is it, sir ? 

Burton. I've com»> to see Mr, Fiipprr. 

Patsy. He isn't at home. sir. 



thp: ulster. 3o 

• 

l>UKTON. Yes, I know; but tell, me what kind of a man ^v Mr. 
Flipper, any way ? 

Patsy. He's a nice enough man sometimes, sir, but 

Burton. But what ? 

Patsy. This is one of his ugly days, {hell ringb) Yes, I'm coming. 

[Exit. 

Burton. One of his ugly days ! That's what the other one said. 
Maybe there's something wrong with Tdm too. 

Patsy {returning, speaks testily to herself). It's enough to drive a 
body crazy. She doesn't know what she wants herself, {about to go 
off.) 

Burton. Say, little one ! 

Patsy (testily). I've got no time. 

Burton. But tell me, what kind of people are there in this house, 
and how comes this to be one of Mr. Flipper's ugly days? 

Patsy {angrily as hefoi^e). Because everything and everybody's gone 
crazy. " "^ {Exit. 

Barton. Gone crazy ! That's it : Just as I thought. The best 
thing I can do is to go for a policeman, {about to go off.) 

Enter Mrs. Flipper, dressed in ulster, etc., same as Sadie. 

Mrs. F. I beg your pardon ? 

Burton. Beg your pardon, (aside) Hello, here's another one ! 
{aloud) I am w^aitiiig to see Mr. Flipper. 

Mrs. F. Mr, Flipper is not at home. 

Burton. Yes, I know. 

Mrs. F. Is there anything Jean do for you ? 

Burton {looking at the ulster). I did iliink; but I don't think — I 
don't really know 

Mrs. F. {knoicingly). Or is it a secret ? 

Burton. Certainly not. {aside) What eyes she is making at me. 
{aloud) I've come for — {aside) 1 wish she wouldn't stare at me so. 

Mrs. F. Perhaps ii's a surprise ? 

Burton. Yes, that's it. {aside) 1 mustn't contradict her. 

Mrs. F. {taking his measure with her eye). Do you know, sir, that 
the closer I look at you 

Burton {receding). Yes — well ? 

Mrs. F. Perhaps you are 

Burton. No doubt I am. Who ? 

Mrs. F. M3MiUsband's friend. 

Burton. Certainly. 

Mrs. F. Snarl— Old Snarl. 

Burton. Snarl ? {aside) In a snarl, does she mean ? {aloud) Cer- 
tainly I am, why shouldn't I be, precisely. 

Mrs. F. I never had the honor of a personal acquaintance with 
3^0 n, but from the description my husband gave of 3^ou, I recognized 
you at once, and now that I look at you again, I find an astonishing 
resemblance to your son Petei-. 

Burton. 'My son? {aside) This is going too far; this is violating 
the most sacred feelings of a bachelor, {aloud) My dear madam, I 
haven't the time to arg'ue it \\ itli you; but if I had, I could prove to 
you 

Mrs. F. 1 want to talk with you about Sadie. 

Burton {a^^ide). Sadie again \ Sadie bo {'shud) Certainly, ht's 

talk nhou't S:i('i-"'. 



3G THE ULSTER. 

jVIrs. F. You know in my opinion 

Burton. You needn't go any further, madam; I concur in that 
opinion entirely. 

Mrs. F Then you are willing to yield to her wishes, and to grant 
what she asks ? 

Burton. Let her keep the darn'd thing, and he happy. 

Flip, (outside). This way, sir. 

Mrs. F. That's my husband. Let us fmish this discussion in the 
library. He doesn't agree with me about Sadie's choice, and I 
want 

Burton. Really, madam, my time is precious. 

Mrs. F. Only a few minutes. I only want to unite with you on 
some plan for Avinning my husband over to our side. 

Burton. And this is one of his ugly days, too. 

[Exit loith Mrs. F. into library. 

Enter Flipper, followed hy Old Barton. 

Flip, {hurriedly and angrily taking the stage). John ! John ! Where 
in thunder is that John ? {to Barton) Step iato the library, sir. till I 
return. I'm going to bring my lawyer, {takes out his watch) It isn't 
far. I shall be back in a few minutes. [Exit. 

Barton. He seems a restless sort of a man, physically. I guess 
he's worried about something. May be he doesn't like the financial 
prospect. I've been figuring the thing over in my mind, and twist 
and tarn it as I may, Agnes' dowry is just so big and no bigger. I 
can't help it. I guess that's what's worrying Flipper. {tOjkes out his 
memorandum hook and sits at little table). If my ** development" 
brings me in $3,000 this year, next year there ought to be an increase 
of at least thirty per cent. Three times three is nine, {figures silently.) 

Enter John with cake and biscuit on salver. He is going towards Sadie's 
room, when Vmyi^y i^ops in and calls. 

Patsy. John ! you're wanted- at once. Mr. Flipper has been call- 
ing for you ever since he came in. [Exit. 

John {stopping short at table). Yont lieven give me time to wait on 
the young lady. [Sets wine, etc., on table and exits. 

Barton. Thank you ; you're very kind, {fills his glass) Sherry ! 
{takes a biscuit.) 

Enter Mrs. Flipper //'6>//i the library. 

Mrs. F. My husband must certainly have returned, {sees Barton) 
Xow who is that I wonder. 

Barton. These are dainty biscuit. This seems a dainty house 
altogether, physically, {looking up) A lady ! This is Mrs. Flipper. 
{boirs. ) 

Mrs. F. {bowing, slightly embarrassed). How d'you do, sir ? 

Barton. My name is Barton. 

Mrs. F. {in surjyrise). Geoffrey's father ! 

Barton. I presume 3^ou are already aware that Mr. Flipper has 
done me the honor to apply, on his son's behalf, for my daughter's 
hand in marriage. 

Mrs. F. Is it'possible ? 

Barton {continuing). And so we came here to settle matters, and 
do away with all obstacles, physically. 



THE ULSTEll. 37 

^Irs. F. I can't find words to express my surprise. 

Barton. I trust, madam, that your consent will not l)e wanting. 

Mrs. ¥. Nothing could jDlcase me better, {icacinf/ her hand) Wont 
you be seated ? 

Barton {following her gesture). Thank you. 

Mrs. F. {filling his glass, then Iter oxn). Permit me ? 

Barton (tasting the wine). Do you know, madam, I claim to be 
something of a connoisseur. 

Mrs. F. I hope you will find it to 3'our taste. 

Barton. Here's to our prospective family connections, {thei/ touch 
their glasses.) 

Mrs. F. Joy to us all ! 

Barton {stojiping the glass on the way to his lips). It is nil the more 
happiness I0 see my child thus provided for, from the fact that she 
is our only daughter, {fices Mrs. Flipper's glass still poised) Your 
very good health, {they drink.) 

Mrs. F. But you still have a son ? 

Barton {tasting the trine). No body, that's to be candid. 

Mrs. F. Nobody ! why he's your son ? 

l^xnTo:s {holding yp the Kine-glass). A little too pale, to tdl the 
truth. 

Mrs. F. {laughing). Oh, I see I I thought you w^ere speaking of 
your Fou. {still laughing.) 

Barton. Y-yes ! {laughs too, .doesn't quite knoio why; fills the glasses 
and drinks them as Flipper enters. Barton still laughing) Here's 
luck ! 

Flip. The3^'re together I and he calls it luck ! and my back scarce- 
ly turned, {comes down in dumb amazement.) 

Mrs. F. {rising quickly and tcitli evident p)^ctsure). Oh, Flipper ! 
you're here at last ? 

Flip. I regret to say I am. 

Mrs. F. {embracing Mm). I must I you're such a dear, kind soul. 

Flip. I've no doubt jow think so. 

Mrs. F. You couldn't have brought me a more w^elcome surprise. 
{referring to Barton.) 

Flip. It is needless to tell me that. 

Barton (very 7nuch pleased ). And Mrs. Flipper seems delighted 
with the idea. 

Flip. I should imagine so. {opens library door) But wont 3'ou 
kindly walk into this room. My lawyer's clerk will be here directly. 
He will take all you have to say dowm in writing. 

Barton {seeing the action). Oh, you want me 10 go in there ? 

Flip. If you please. 

Barton [kissing Mrs. Flipper's hand on Ms tjcay out). Here's hoping 
for a speedy bethrothal— physically— and an early marriage. [Exit. 

Flip, {aside). The villain's impatient too. {places himself in front of 
his wife with forced heroic calm) And so, madam, you are fully re- 
signed to this thing ? 

Mrs. F. How can you ask, dear ? it's the most sensible idea I ever 
knew you to liave. 

Flip. Indeed ? {drawing a deep breath) And so you fully approve of 
my 1 esolve ? 

]\Irs. F. Most fully. I am rejoiced to see that you take such a 
rational view^ of the matter. 

Flip. Rational ! {losing all control of himself) ]May the devil take 
It all. {knocks over tJic chair.) 



S8 THE ULSTER. 

Mrs. F. Wliy, Flipper dear, what s the matter ? 

Flip. Can't you see, madam ? nothing is the matter, nothing ! 

^Irs. F. I haven't had time yet to tell you that your friend Snarl 
has arrived. 

Flip, {icildly, still pacing the stage). D — n Snarl, {jiausing) Snarl, 
\\'here is he ? 

Mrs. F. In the library. 

Flip, {continuing vacantly as before). Who would have believed it? 

Mrs. F. Aren't you pleased with his visit, Flipper ? 

Flip. ^Vhose ? 

Mrs. F. Don't you want to see him ? 

Flip. Whom ? 

Mks. F. Why, your friend ! Didn't you hear me tell you Snarl had 
come ? 

Flip. Yes, yes, certainly, 

Mrs. F. I'll go and let him know 3'ou are here, (about to go.) 

Flip, (calling her). Betsy ! 

Mrs. F. (stopping). Yes. 

Flip, (softly). Come here. 

Mrs. F. What is it, dear ? (coming doicn to him.) 

Flip, (abstractedly). What was it I wanted to say ? 

Mrs. F. You seem abstracted, (smi'ing) Are you wool-gathering ? 

Flip. I've gathered a whole liociv of sheep, hides and all. 

Mrs. F. How strangeh^ you talk. 

Flip. Let me think, (pauf^es) Betsy, (icith tears in his voice) are 
you sure, Bet^y, that you've quite made up your mind ? 

Mrs. F. Why, certainl}^ dear. And now that we've gone so far, 
we might as well go to the end of the tether. 

Flip. Which tether ? 

Mrs. F. Make the rest rf the family happy. But we'll talk of 
that by-and-by. I'll send Snarl out to you. [Exit into library. 

Flip. Make the rest of the family happy ? How many more are 
there ? Does she w^ant to establish a divorce agency ? I am be- 
wildered, benumbed and bedazed. Life is an utter blank and a 
miserable failure. (4ts at table and rests his head on his hands in a 
brown study.) 

Enter Burtox and Mrs. Flipper, carrying her tdster and hut over 
her arm. ready to take them into her own room. 

Mrs. F. (to BuRTO^'). There he sits. [Exit into her room. 

Burton. And this is one of his ugly days, (coming across to Flip- 
per) Mr. Flipper, I believe ? 

Flip, (looks up to hi^ face gradually , lighting up tcitJi pleasure as lie 
extends his hands). Is this ? It is. Are you or are you not ? 

Burton. I am. 

Flip, (icith pathetic joy, taking both his hands). Bless you, old fel- 
low^; Fm ghid you've come. 

Burton. How are you, o\\ fellow^ ? 

Flip I'm wretched and miserable; it does me good to grasp one 
honest friend by tlic hand. 

Burton. Grasp away. 

Flip. But how you've changed. 

Burton. Oh, yes, I've changed. 

Flip. It I had met you in the street. I shouldn't have known you. 

Bukton. Perhaps not. (.«<.7s-.) 



THE ULSTER. Jj9 

Flip. (sits). Time works wonders; let me see, how^ man}^ years is 
it ? it must be fifteen ? 

Burton. No, eighteen. 

Flip, (filling a wine-glass). Eighteen ! it doesn't seem possible. 

BuRTOX. AVe're getting on in years. 

Flip. Have / changed much ? 

Burton. No; you're the same old cove. 

Flip. Ah, my boy, if you knew of the viper that has poisoned my 
life you wouldn't "wonder at the change. I feel as though this very 
day had added ten years to my life. 

BuRTON^. It's one of your ugly days. 

Flip. There are some moments w^hen I really feel my mind going. 

Burton. I dare say. 

Flip. I seem fairly to lose myself. 

Burton. So I find. 

Flip. And do you wonder at it ? Oh, the misery, the agony of it 
all. 

Burton. And to think that an ulster should have raised all this 
row. 

Flip. Then you know all about it. 

Burton. She told me herself. 

Flip. She did ? and what did you say ? 

Burton. She seems to have set her heart on the plagued thing; 
let her have it all her ow^n way. 

Flip, And do you say so too ? 

Burton. Why, when a w^oman talks about giving up everything 
she has in the world, if you'll only leave her the one hope, joy, dream 
and prayer of her life, what can you do ? (rising, about to go.) 

Flip. You're not going ? 

Burton. Yes, I'd better. I don't know how it is; I felt w^ell 
enough Avhen I came, but there's something in the atmosphere that's 
turned my head. 

Flip. Perhaps the air will do you good. 

Burton. Yes, I guess it will. 

Flip. You'll dine with us this evening ? 

Burton. Certainly. 

Flip. I'll expect you to dinner. Au revoir ! 

Burton Ail revoir ! (aside) I'll have to go for a summons, or I'll 
never get that ulster back in the world. [Exit. 

Flip. Hans: it all, he's gone off without seeing his son Peter, (go- 
ivg "Up) Siuirl ! Snarl ! (coming had) Well, the surprise at dinner 
will be all the greater. 

Enter Peter. 

Peter. Mr. Black, Mr. Flipper. 

Enter Black. 

Flip, (meeting him). I've been waiting for you. 

Black. Happy to be of service. 

Flip, (aside). Now he's happ}^ too. (aloud) Have the goodness to 
walk into the library. You'll find Mr. Barton there. Take dow^n 
what he ha^^ to say in wn-iting. 

Black. Very well, sir. " [E.vit into Hbrarg, 

Flip. Much obliged to you, Peter ra}^ boy. 

Peter. It's on^v inv dinv, sir. 



40 THE ULSTEK. 

Flip. Peter, who do 3-011 think has come to town ? 

Peter. I dum.o, i^ir. 

Flip. Well, wait tiJl dinner; you'll open j^our eyes. And by the 
wa}^ Peter, have you spoken to your sister ? 

Peter. JSot yet, sir; but if it's your orders, I'll talk to her to-day. 

Flip. Better btill— you bring her here; I'll talk to her myself. We 
shall have the whole family together. 

Peter. Yes, sir. 

Flip, (aside). After I shall have married off my son and my niece 
both, I shall lock myself up in abject seclusion and disown the world 
forever after. But hang it all, I'd forgotten Quick. His testimon}^ 
is of paramount value. I'll go for him. And Sadie, too, she knows 
something, (to Peter) Peter, my boy, wont you please stay here and 
tell my niece when she comes m to come to my room, I want to see 
her. I hliall be back in a few" minutes. And don't forget your sis- 
ter, Peter; I am anxious to meet this unsullied flower of nature. 
The world is so wicked, Peter, so venomously wricked. [Exit. 

Peter. Yes, sir, I reckon it is. {in great glee) That's the kind of 
a boss I like. He looks after the dom.estics as if they was his own 
flesh and blood. Wont Moll jump when she hears the news, 

Fn(e?' John. 

John. Now look 'ere, vherc 'avc 3'ou been a-kcepin of verself hall 
day. 

Peter. I was with Mr. Flipper. 

John. You seem to be laborink hunder the hidea there hain't no 
work to be done. Vy, yer hain't heven got your livery hon yet. 

Peter. I ain't had the time. 

John. Vhat are 5 ou doink 'ere now ? 

Peter. I was told to wait for Miss Sadie. 

John. And then vhat ? 

Peter. Then I'm to go for to fetch my sister Moll. 

John. Is she goink to vork 'ere too ? 

Peter. No; l\Ir. Flipper is going to marry her off. 

John. Marry 'er hoff ? 

Peter. Yes, he's found her a husband. 

John. Found 'er a 'usband ! (asidt) Yell, hit's only hin Hamericky 
the masters is so hintimate with the servints. The old gentleman's 
takin a hextra ordinary likink to that cove. Hif hi don't mind my 
heye, hi vont haf no lieye to mind pretty soon. [Exit. 

Peter. I reckon that British cuss is sorter cnrions. Well, what's 
the odds. Orders is orders, and I do as I'm told, that's all there is 
about it. 

E?iter j\Irs. FLirrER. 

i\rRS. F. Hasn't my husband got through with his friend ? {seeing 
Peter) Who's that ? What do you wish ? 

Peter. I'm waiting for Miss Sadie. 

Mrs. F. Sadie ? 

Peter. Yes'm, and ihen I'm to fetch my sister. 

Mrs. F. Then, you must hi}— (aside) It's STidie's Geoffrey, (aimed) 
Pray be seated. I'll ^^end Miss Sadie out to you. 

Pp:ter. You're loo kind, mum. 

Mrs. F. By rights though, I ought to be very angi-y with you. 

Peter. Whv, nnmi ? "^ 



THE ULSTER. 41 

Mks. F. You ought to have come and introduced yourself long be- 
fore thii<. 

Peter. I'm sorry I didn't, mum. 

Mrs. F. But young folks will be thoughtless, and we have to over- 
look these things, {going to him, wry sweetly) I'll let Sadie know that 
you are here; you're all anxiety to see her, I know. {icWi knoicing 
playfuljiess) It Avould be cruel to keep you waiting any longer. 
{aMde, going) I should never have suspected him of being an ardent 
iover. {tu7')is at the door) Do pray be seated. 

Peter {tcho has been standing, perplexed, noio bursts into a lavgh). 
He, he, he 1 that's a missis after my own heart. She told me to 
take a seat. Well, I reckon I will. If this p'ace keeps on as com- 
fortable as it's started in, there w^on't be much for a feller to sour on. - 

Enter Sadie. 

Sadie. My dear— (Peter ?7x^.s^ she screams) He's back again, {runs 
off-) 

Peter {calling after her). Miss Sadie ! Miss Sadie ! It's- me, 
Peter. I'll be durned if she ain't run off. Well, I'll go and fetch 
my sister. 

Enter Geoffrey. 

Geof. Do you belong to the house ? 

Peter. I'm the new groom. 

Gkof. Then let Miss Sadie know I've come. 

Peter. It can't be done. 

Geof. Has the lady gone out ? 

Peter. No, sir. 

Geof. She isn't ill ? 

Peter. Ko, sir. 

Geof. Then Avhat's the matter with her ? 

Peter. She skips. [E.vit. 

Geof. She skips ! That young man's been drinking. Here I am 
back again. I'v{3 kept my ulster too, so far. I don't know who's 
going to make the next raid on it. 

Enter Mrs. Flipper, speaking as she enters. 

Mrs. F. Sadie must have been mistaken. He wouldn't presume — 
{sees Geoffrey) Why, sure enough, that young Snarl has come back. 
{to Geoffrey) Now. really, sir, I thought I had made myself suffi- 
cently understood on your last v sit. 

Geof. You will pardon my persistency, madam; but I am here at 
Mr. Flipper's request, {aside) She isn't musical, that's sure, {aloud) 
In fact, this morning 

Mrs. F. Well, since you've made up your mind to continue your 
visits, I trust they will be devoted to Mr. Fhpper; for so far as 
Sadie is concerned, I shall always contrive to keep you at a distance. 

Enter Flipper aTid Quick. They stand at door. 

Flip. What's up now ? 

Mrs. F. {half to Geoffrey, haf to Flipper). I shall never permit 
the child to be sacriliccd. [Exit. 



42 Tin: lj.stej:. 

Flip, {facing Geoffrey). Sacrifice the cbild at the piano ! What 
sacrifice is tliere about that ? 

Geof. I thiuk, sir, inasmuch — (aside) I shall make a clean breast 
of it. 

Flip, (who has already turned to Quick, says to Geoffeey). Pardon 
me a moment, (to Quick) Go in there and say what you have seen; 
it will be taken down in writing. 

Quick. All right, sir. Precision's my strong point, {inannnder- 
ione) I see though, you've cauglit the right one at last. 

Flip. W!)at do you mean ? 

Quick. Whv, there he stands. 

Flip. There— who ? 

Quick. AVliy, there ! (poinfing to Geoffrey.) 

Flip, {with a blank stare). That's who ? 

Quick. That's /lim. I spotted him. I'd swear to him. 

Flip, (as before). That's who ? Him ? He ? That fellow ? Then 
who's in there ? 

Quick. In where ? 

Flip. Why, hang it, he said so; he told me himself; I know it. 
Am I out of my wits, or are you ? 

Quick. One of us is, that's dead sure. [Exit into libra?'?/. 

Flip. So he's the one ! {coming dozen to Geoffrey^) Sir ! 

Geof. Yes, sir. (paub-e.) 

Flip. Don't attempt to prevaricate, sir; but tell me, how many 
ulsters of this pattern do you own ? 

Geof. {inwluntarily tightening his ulster, aside). Here's another ! 
(aloud) What do you mean, sir ? 

Flip. You have deceived me. 

Geof. In what ? 

Flip. You are not a music teacher. 

Geof. Then yon know ? 

Flip. I know still more. Your name is Barton. 

Geof. At your service, sir. 

Flip. Geoffrey Barton ! 

Geof, Junior. 

Flip. You were here during mv absence yesterday; do you deny 
that? 

Geof. No, sir. 

Flip. You have been in the habit of 

Geof. I'll save you the trouble of asking all those questions, Mr. 
Flipper. I'll tell you the whole story in a nutshell. 

Flip. D— n 3^our nutshell ! Tell me the truth. 

Geof. I heard yesterday that you would not be nt home in the 
evening, and I couldn't afford to let such an opportunity go by. 

Flii\ I should say not. 

Geof. I'm sure in your time you would have done the same thing. 

Flip. Do you think so ? 

Geof. You must have been young once. 

Flip. Very. 

Geof. And you certainly must have 

Flip. Enough, sir ! (with desperate effort) But one quesuon more. 
How did you make her acquaintance ? 

Geof. Through your son. 

Flip. Mv son ? 

Geof. He is a friend of mine. 

Flip. 3Iv son ? 



THE ULSTER. 43 

Geof. She came to the Art Gallery with Wilmington, and avc first 
met at the feet of a little pink Cupid. 

Flip. I don't want to hear another word ! My own son ! 

Geof. And now, Mr. Flipper, as things have gone thus far, you 
know, I thought you'd shut your eyes in a charitable sort of way, 
and 

Flip. And what ? 

Geof. {iciih a hold effort). Give her to me. 

Flip. At once. 

Geof. If you should refuse, we would both be made wretched. 

Flip. Both ? 

Geof. Surel3^ 

Flip. And what of inc? 

Geof. You would be the fvounder of our happiness. 

Flip. I'm to go into the foundry business too, am 1 ? What next, 
I wonder, {laughing grimly.) 

Geof. Ah, sir, jow are tre-^ting this matter as a jest. I assure 
you, it involves the happiness of my life. 

Flip, {icith the same lavgh). Don't take offence at my enjoying my- 
self. It is really so very funny— so confoundedly, awfully, d — nably 
funny, (aside) I feel like a loaded cannon waiting to be touched olf. 
{aloud ) Pray have the kindness to walk into that room. You'll find 
my lawyer there; he'll take your request down in writing. 

Geof. Thank you, sir. [Exit into library. 

Flip. My son ! Wilmington, the pledge of my earliest love— aged 
twenty-two— removed from the pale of his j^oung mother's loveliness, 
so that she, thrown upon nie an orphan at eighteen, should be reared 
apart from the contaminating influences of the world ! My son ! 
My son ! {collapses in tJie cliair) I've often wondered why he could 
never find words when he spoke to me; it was the guili}^ secret on 
liis conscience. Oh, the treachery, the villainy, the perfidy of it all! 

Enter Wilmington. 

WiL. {coming down behind him). Father ! 

Flip. Ah, there he is. 

WiL. Father! 

Flip. Silence, sir. Come here. 

WiL. Father ! 

Flip. Silence, sir, and speak. None of your d — d monosyllables 
either. Do you hear me ? Silence, sir ! You can find your tongue 
when it comes to making appointments for people in art galleries. 

WiL. Father ! 

Flip. Don't attempt to defend yourself; I know all. Your friend 
Barton has betrayed you. Works of art, indeed ! It's time you 
were taken in hand. 

WiL. Father, the happiness of my life 

Flip. I'll attend to that. Go into that room; Mr. Black will at- 
tend to you in writing. 

WiL. Yes; but, father — {going to the door.) 

Flip. Go, sir. {notices his coat as he stands at the door) And the 
next time you show yourself in that ulster, I'll send you through the 
skylight. 

WiL. Yes, sir. [Exit. 

Flip. I haven't lost my grip on him at least, thank Heaven. 



4.4: THE LLSTER. 



Enter John, nahcriiir/ in Mks. Bakton aiul Ag^'es, the latter in ulster 

and Derby. 

Mrs. B. Ah, Mr. Flipper ! 

Flip. You liere, madam ? 

Mrs. B. Yes, sir, and my daughter Agnes. 

Flip. You've dressed her up too, to commemorate the day, I sup- 
pose, (aside) It seems as though the ^vhole ^vorld had taken to wear- 
ing ulsters in honor of the event. 

Mrs. B. 8he set her heart on having one like Wilmington's. 

Agnes. Oh, ]\[r. Flipper, I can't tell you how thankful I am to 
you for h.aving allowed inamm-i to persuade you this morning. 

Mrs. B. We've come to lind out how vou are getting on w^ith Mr. 
Barton ? 

Flip. I'm just bringing maiters to a head, (to John, icho Jias been 
'poking the fire) John, tell Mrs. Flipper and Miss Sadie to come here. 
(exit John. (Mis in through library door) Vlx. Black, are you ready ? 
Very well; then have the kindness to come out here. 

Enter ^\v.%. Flipper r/;zr? Sadie, dressed for a walk, with their hats 

and idsters on. 

Mrs. F. (to Flipper). We were just going out; did you want us ? 

Flip, (seeing their suits). Two more ! Yes, Mrs. and ]\Iiss Barton. 
(introducing them ; the ladies meet) I don't know^ liow it is, wiiether 
it's the grief I feel over ni}' loss, or w^hat it is; but somehow^ I feel as 
though everybody in the house w^;'S right ai.d I was all wrong; as 
though everybod^r in the house was honest except me, and I was the 
blackest scoundrel alive ! This way, gentlemen. 

Enter from library Barton, Geoffrey, Wilmington, Black and 

Quick. 

Mrs. F. What is it you wish, Flipper dear ? 

Flip, (aside). Flipper dear ! The viper again ! (cdoud) You'll find 
out soon enough. 

Wjl. (taking Agnes by the hand and coming doicn to Flipper). 
Thank you, fatlicr. I see now^ Avhat you did v;as onl}^ to make me 
happy, (goes off with Agisks.) 

Flip, (aside). And that's m}' son I {rdoud) And now, Mr. Black, 
are you quite rt ady ? 

Black. Quite ready, (hands paper to Fltppp:r.) 

Flip Well, then. Here to-day stands the Flipper family. 

IMrs. F. Why don't we sit down ? 

Flip. D — n it, let's sit down, (they seat themselves) Well, then, liere 
stands— here sits the families of Flipper and Barton, (drawing breath) 
An event ])as transpired— an event the consequences of which will 
fall ;dike upon both families. 

]\rRS. F. Yv'h}^ dear, never mind the long introduction. 

Flip. We'll come to the poiiit soon enough, mad;im. Very well, 
then, (opens ^'aper and reads) " Geollrey Barton, senior, being duly 
sworn depo9es and says, that he has given his full authorization and 
consent to the marriage of his daughter Agnes to Wilmington, son 
of YalcDtine Flipper." {^] cak^) Wh:.t d— d inmsense is this ? 



THE ULSTER. 45 

Barton. And may IlLaven bless us all. 

Mrs. F. Well, go on, dear. 

Flip, (/^j Black). What did 3'ou —(/,-> Mrs. B.) I mean you. {to Old 
Barton) I should say you. 

Barton {tcith keen joy). This is, pliysically, the happiest day of my 
life. 

Flip, {to Black). What's this you've written ? 

Black {pointing to Barton). This gentleman's testimony. 

Flip. IViis gentleman ? {pointing ^^"Barton.) 

Bartox (i^ciA'/y?,^ Flipper's extended hand): The same to you, sir. 
Many happy returns of the day. 

Flip. AVhat do 3'ou mean, sir ? 

■Mrs. B. You'll have to speak a little louder ; my husband is verv 
deaf. 

Flip, ccnd Mrs. F. Deaf I 

Flip, {stcoggered, gasps). Deaf ! 

Mrs. B. He doesn't like to have it talked about, but he really can't 
hear a word. 

Barton {tcith a boundless feeling of joy). There is no visible obstacle, 
physically, to everybody's happiness. 

Flip, {looking at everybody in aniazenient). It can't be — it's all wrong, 
or else I'm m( re kinds of an ass than any one man was ever permit- 
ted to be in his life. 

Mrs. F. What is the matter ? (Br,ACK hands Flip, cinotlier paper.) 

Flip. What this ? {reach) '• GeoHrey Barton and Sadie Flipper — " 

Geof. {coming down with Sadie). No use reading all that ; this tells 
the stoiy in a nutshell. 

Mrs. F. Mr. Snarl ! 

Sadie. No, auntie, Geoffrey — my Geoffrey. 

Flip. And have you been in love with my niece ? 

Geof. A.s I've told }ou. 

Flip. And it was to see Sadie you came here last night V 

Geof. Precisely. 

Flip. Where's Quick's testimony ? 

Black. Ruled out as irrelevant and not bearing upon the case. 

Quick. Precision's my strong point. 

Flip. What case ? whose case V And then my wife wasn't— didn't 
you say — wasn't it he— didn't he prove— haven't you gone— didn't 
I find ? Heaven and earth ! Give me air ! {breaks vp the stage) 
Hold on a moment ! {pidls himself together) Hold on a moment I 
{stands c. and counts) One, two, three, four, five ! Then, in the 
name of all that's true and honest, whose ulster is this ? {holding up 
the nlster, which he takes from chair at table.) 

Enter Burton. 

Burton, {comes doicn quickly and snatches it). Mine ! At last ! 
Flip. Your's, Snarl ? 

Burton. What do you mean by Snarl ? :>Iy name's not Snarl. 
Mrs. F. and Flip. It isn't ? 
Burton. JSo ; but tlr's is my coat. 
Flip. Is your name Barton ? 

Burton. No, sir : it's B\\v\ on— {spelling) B-u-r-t-o-n. {going up.) 
Flip. R. T. O. N. Floored by a vowel 1 {hurries after him) But 
explain. 

Peter Qieard without). Come along, ^loll. 



40 THK LLSTKIl. 



Enter Peter, dragging In cifai, very healthy looking servant girL 

Peter. Here, Mr. Flipper, is my sister Moll. 

Mrs. F. Who is that ? 

John. The new groom, mum, Peter Jones. 

Peter. Why, Mr. Flipper knows. 

Flip. Oh, yes, I know— ha, ha, ha ! 

Mrs. F. And is that — ha, ha, ha ! 

Sadie. Uncle, you don't mean to say that that — ha, ha, ha ! 

Peter. Yes, I'm that — ha, ha, ha I (Moll bursts out into a icild 
laugh.) 

Barton {through his laughter). IL^ppiest day of my life, physically 
— ha, ha, ha ! 

The laughter becomes infectious, and all join in. When it subsides 
Flipper, looking very gloo7ny, comes down to the footlights and says : 

Flip. Do you know what they are laughing at ? If you don't, I 
shouldn't advise you to inquire too closely. I've gone through the 
the siege, and I know what it is. You may take my word for it, 
there's an ulster at the bottom of it. 



CURTAIN. 



i 




DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS (Continued). 



No. 
144. 

M. 
137. 
111. 
119. 
165. 

48. 

32. 
164. 
109. 

85. 

87. 
143. 
189. 
163. 
154. 

63. 

39. 
7. 

49. 

15. 

46. 

^1. 
184. 
108. 
188. 
i69. 
130. 

92. 
193. 

140. 

115. 
2. 

57. 
I(r4. 
112. 
385. 

84. 
117. 

171. 
14. 

t73. 
176. 

90. 
170. 

33. 
3. 

97. 

66. 

172, 
94. 
45. 

155. 

178. 

147. 
156. 

82. 
127. 

23. 

62. 



M. F. 

Lancashire Lass, melodrama, 5 acts.l2. 3 
Larkins' Love Letters, farce, 1 act.. 3 

L' Article 47, drama, 3 acts 11 

Liar (The), comedy, 2 acts 7 

Life Chase, drama, 5 acts 14 

Living Statue (The), farce, 1 act 3 

Little Annie's Birthday, farce, 1 act. 2 

Little Rebel, farce, 1 act 4 

Little Ruby, drama, 3 acts 6 

Locked In, comedietta, 1 act 2 

Locked In with a Lady, sketch, 1 act. 1 

Locked Out, comic scene 1 

Lodgers an<i Dodgers, farce, 1 act. . 4 
Leap Year, musical duality, 1 act. . . 1 

Marcoretti, drama, 3 acts 10 

Maria and Magdalena, play, 4 acts . 8 
Marriage at Any Price, farce, 1 act . 5 
Master Jones' Birthday, farce, 1 act. 4 

Maud's Peril, drama, 4 acts. . , 5 

Midnight Watch, drama, 1 act 8 

Milky White, drama, 2 acts 4 

Miriam's Crime, drama, 3 acts 5 

Model of a Wife, farce, 1 act 3 

Money, comedy, 5 acts 17 

Mr. Scroggins, farce, 1 act 3 

Mr. X., farce, 1 act 3 

My Uncle's Suit, farce, 1 act 4 

My Wife's Diary, farce, 1 act 3 

My Wife's Out, farce, 1 act 2 

My Walking Photograph, musical 

duality, 1 act 1 

Never Reckon Your Chickens, etc., 

farce, 1 act 3 

New Men and Old Acres, comedy, 3 8 

Nobody's Child, drama, 3 acts 8 

Noemie, drama, 2 acts 4 

No Name, drama, 5 acts .7 

Not a Bit Jealous, farc€, 1 act- . . . .' ' 3 
Not So Bad as We Seem, plav, 5 acts. 14 

Not Guilty, drama, 4 acts. . ." 10 

Not Such a Fool as He Looks, drama, 

3 acts 5 

Nothing Like Paste, farce, 1 act S 

No Thoroughfare, drama, 5 acts and 

prologue 13 



Off the Stage, comedietta, 1 act 3 

On Bread and Water, farce, 1 act. . . 1 

Only a Halfpenny, farce, 1 act 2 

Only Somebody, farce, 1 act 4 

One too Many for Him, farce, 1 act. 2 

£100,000, comedy, 3 acts 8 

Orange Blossoms, comedietta, 1 act. 3 
Orange Girl, drama, in prologue 

and 3 acts 18 

Ours, comedy, 3 acts 6 

Our Clerks, farce, 1 act 7 

Our Domestics, comedy farce, 2 acts 6 
Our Heroes, military play, 5 acts. . .24 
Out at Sea, drama in prologue and 

4 acts 16 

Overland Route, comedy, 3 acts 11 

Peace at Any Price, rarce, 1 act 1 

Peep o' Day, drama, 4 acts . , 12 



Petticoat Parliament, extravaganza, 

in one act 15 24 

Photographic Fix, farce, 1 act 3 2 

A COMPLETE 



No. M. T. 

61. Plot and Passion, drama, 3 acts.... 7 2 
138. Poll and Partner Joe, burlesque, 1 

act 10 3 

110. Poppleton's Predicaments, farce, 1 3 $ 

50. Porter's Knot, drama, 2 acts 8 2 

59. Post Boy, drama, 2 acts 5 3 

95. Pretty Horse-Breaker, farce, 1 act.. 3 10 

181 and 182. Queen Mary, drama, 4 act8.38 8 

157. Quite at Home, comedietta, 1 act. . . 5 S 
196. Queerest Courtship (The), comic op 

eretta, 1 act 1 1 

132. Race for a Dinner, farce, 1 act 10 

183. Richelieu, play, 5 acts 16 2 

38. Rightful Heir, drama, 5 acts 10 2 

77. Roll of the Drum, drama, 3 acts 8 4 

13. Ruy Bias, drama, 4 acts 12 4 

194. Rum, drama, 3 acts 7 4 

195. Rosemi Shell, travesty, 1 act, 4 

scenes 6 3 

158. School, comedy, 4 acts 6 6 

79. Sheep in Wolf's Clothing, drama, 17 5 

37. Silent Protector, farce, 1 act 3 2 

35. Silent Woman, farce, 1 act 2 1 

43. Sisterly Service, comedietta, 1 act . . 7 2 

6. Six Months Ago, comedietta, 1 act. 2 1 

10. Snapping Turtles, duologue, 1 act. . 1 1 

26. Society, comedy, 3 acts .16 5 

78. 'jp^cial Performances, farce, 1 act. . 7 3 
31. Taming a Tiger, farce, 1 act 3 

150'. Tell-Tale Heart, comedietta, 1 act. . 1 2 

120. Tempest in a Teapot, comedy, 1 act. 2 1 
146. There's no Smoke Without Fire, 

comedietta, 1 act 1 2 

83. Thrice Married, personation piece, 

lact 6 1 

42. Time and the Hour, drama, 3 acts. . 7 3 

27. Time and Tide, drama, 3 acta and 

prologue , . . 7 5 

133. Timothy to the Rescue, farce, 1 act. 4 2 
153. 'Tig Better to Live than to Die, 

farce, 1 act 2 1 

134. Tompkins the Troubadour, farce, 13 2 
29. Turning the Tables, farce, 1 act. ... 5 3 

168. Tweedie's Rights, comedy, 2 acts.. 4 2 

126. Twice Killed, farce, 1 act 6 3 

56. Two Gay Deceivers, farce, 1 act 3 

123. Two Polts, farce, 1 act 4 4 

198. Twin Sisters (The), comic operetta, 

1 act 3 

162. Uncle's Will, comedietta, 1 act 2 

106. Up for the Cattle Show, farce, 1 act. 6 




81. Vandyke Brown, farce, 1 act 3 

124. Volunteer Review, farce, 1 act 6 

91. Walpole, comedy, 3 acts 7 

118. Wanted, a Young Lady, farce, 1 act. 3 

44. War to the Knife, comedy, 3 acts. . . 5 

105. Which ofthe Two? comedietta, lact 2 

98. Who is Who? farce, 1 act 3 

12. Widow Hunt, comedy, 3 acts 4 

5. William Tell with a Vengeance, 

burlesque 8 2 

136. Woman in Red, drama, 3 acts and 

prologue 6 

161. Woman's Vows and Mason's Oaths, 

4 acts 10 4 

11. Woodcock's Little Game, farce, 2 4 4 
54. Young Collegian (Cantab.), farce, 13 3 

DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE 



of DE WITT^S ACTING PLAYS AND PE WITT^S 
ETHIOPIAN AND COMIC DRAMAS, containing Plot, Costume, Scenery, 



I Time of Rep^eselltatio^ and every other information, mailed free and post paid. 



J 



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